man in their pay who knew the world. The
clever man was Mr. Sidney Frost, of the
firm of Lovegrove and Frost, solicitors to the
company. Mr. Frost soon learned that
Prince Barletti was not rich in proportion to
the illustriousness of his rank. In plain
words, he might be open to a bribe. But
the mode of offering the bribe was all-
important. Mr. Frost, in consultation with
the architects and surveyors, discovered that
it would bo very desirable to run a new road
right through a palazzo owned by Prince
Barletti. No one had thought, before, that
the road could pass within half a mile of the
palace. But Mr. Frost's opinion was speedily
adopted.

Negotiations were set on foot with the
prince. He had hitherto been understood
to express himself hostilely towards the
whole undertaking of this foreign company
of speculators. But Mr. Frost thought it
so desirable to persuade his Signoria
Illustrissima, and to bring him round, that
he started off from Naples after he had
been there but a short time, and went to
Paris armed with a letter of introduction,
and with schemes and plans in which the
new road over the site of the Palazzo
Barletti was not forgotten. The prince showed
himself open to conviction. He became a
strong partisan of the English company, and
his change of mind was followed by a
corresponding change of mind in sundry
individuals in Naples. It was a pity, said the
prince, to destroy the old house. It had been
associated with the family name for several
generations. But he understood what was
meant by public spirit, and he would not let
his private feelings interfere with it.

"This Prince Bah-letty charges a pretty
long price for his private feelings!" observed
one of the directors of the English company
when Mr. Frost laid before them the result
of his mission to Paris. But Mr. Frost said
he thought that the prince's private feelings
were not very dear, considering that he was a
prince. And he added that he thought they
would be found to come cheap in the end.

The arrangement of this affair caused
Mr. Frost to come in contact with the
prince's younger brother, Cesare. The
latter was charged by the head of the family
to watch his interests. Cesare became
greatly impressed by the combination in
Mr. Frost of business shrewdness with an
engaging manner. This was another kind
of man from the slow, snuffy, solemn old
"legale" Dottore Chiappi, with whom he
had transacted business for his brother in
Florence. They met, Cesare de' Barletti and
Sidney Frost, nearly every morning, either
at the company's offices, or at Mr. Frost's
hotel.

About a week after the memorable day
of the interview in the Villa Reale between
Veronica and Cesare, the latter was sitting
with Mr. Frost in his rooms at Santa Lucia.
They were seated near the window; and
were vaguely looking out at the blue
sparkling sea, and settling some few last
particulars relative to their business. For
Mr. Frost was to leave Naples by the
steamer for Marseilles on his way to
England, the next day; unless—which he
thought unlikely—a telegram should arrive
from England to detain him.

"You and the English squadron will
depart almost together," said Barletti.

"Aye? The queen's ships are going
away?"

"So I hear."

"Have you ever been over an English
man-of-war?" asked Mr. Frost.

"No: I don't understand ships. When
we were boys we used to go out sometimes
from Capri, my brother and I, with an old
fisherman. But I never cared about it."

"H'm!" grunted Mr. Frost, eyeing his
companion aside. " I don't understand
ships either; but a British man-of-war is a
fine sight."

And the lawyer broke out into a little
national boasting.

"Ah, you like it because you are proud
of your fleet. I am not an Englishman and
I should not be proud of it, you know,"
said Barletti, quietly.

"Look there!" exclaimed Mr. Frost,
staring out to sea. "Do you see that boat
putting off from the squadron? I think
from the direction, she must be coming from
the Furibond: but without a glass it is
impossible to see the ships. How they pull,
the blue-jackets! Just watch them. It's
artistic. Strength, and the kind of grace
that comes from strength skilfully used.
See how they bend and rise, and how the
oars all flash together. They are pulling
for this nearest landing place."

Mr. Frost craned his head out of the
window to watch. Barletti, too, rose and
looked out. On came the trim boat manned
by trim sailors. She seemed to scud over
the sea like a living thing. As she drew
near, they could see the dark blue uniform
of an officer who was steering. And they
began to make out also two other figures—
a man and a woman.

"Visitors to the squadron, whom they're
going to put ashore," said Mr. Frost.