the close of the word—the sigh that followed
it. He remembered, also, how he sat looking
at her hands as they rested, lightly clasped
together, on the volume in her lap—how white
and slender they showed against the purple
binding—and how, when all was said, he longed
to take them in his own, and kiss them once at
parting. Well; it was said, and done, and over
now—all over!

And then he looked out into the grey mists,
and thought of Italy and the stirring life before
him. He had never cared much for the " cause,"
and he now cared for it less than ever.
Olimpia's eyes had been the " cause" to him; and,
like many another, he had attached himself to
it for her sake alone. But that mattered little
now. He needed excitement; and any cause
for which there was work to be done and danger
to be encountered, would have been welcome to
him.

In the mean while, Saxon, sitting in the
opposite corner, had his own troubles to think about
He was not at all satisfied with himself, in the
first place, for the part he was playing towards
his cousin. He could not divest himself of the
idea that he was doing something " sly;" and
that idea was intolerable to him. In the second
place, he was not quite comfortable with regard
to Miss Colonna. He had not begun exactly to
question himself about the nature of his
admiration for her, or even to speculate upon the
probable results of that admiration; but he had
become suddenly aware of the extent of her
power, and was startled at finding to what
lengths he might be carried by his desire to
please her. William Trefalden had said that
she was capable of asking him to take the
command of a troop; but a vague consciousness of
how Olimpia was capable of asking him to do a
great deal more than that, had dawned by this
time upon Saxon's apprehension.

And then, besides all this, he could not help
thinking of his adventure in the mausoleum, and
of the strange interview that he had involuntarily
witnessed between Lady Castletowers and
Miss Rivière. The girl's sorrowful young face
haunted him. He wanted to help her; and he
wanted advice as to the best way of helping
her. Above all, he wanted to penetrate the
mystery of her claim on Lady Castletowers.
He would have given anything to have been
able to talk these things over with the Earl;
but that, after what he had heard, was, of course,
impossible. So he pondered and puzzled, and at
last made up his mind that he would consult his
cousin on the subject while he was up in town.
Thus, absorbed each in his own thoughts, the
two men sped on, face to face, without exchanging
a syllable. They might probably have
continued their journey in silence to the end, if,
somewhere about half way between Sedgebrook
station and Waterloo Bridge, Saxon had not
chanced to look up, and find his companion's
eyes fixed gloomily upon him.

"Well," said he, with a surprised laugh,
"why do you look at me in that portentous
way? What have I done?"

"Nothing particularly useful that I am aware
of, my dear fellow," replied the dragoon. " The
question is, not what you have done, but what
you may do. I was wondering whether you
mean to follow my example?"

"In what respect?"

"In respect of Italy, of course. Are you
intending to join Garibaldi's army?"

"No—that is, I have not thought about it,"
replied Saxon. " Is Castletowers going?"

"I should think not. His mother would
never consent to it."

"If he went, I would go," said Saxon, after
a moment's pause. " There's camp-life to see,
I suppose; and fighting to be done?"

"Fighting, yes; but as to the camp life, I
can tell you nothing about that. I fancy the
work out there will be rough enough for some
time to come."

"I shouldn't mind how rough it was," said
Saxon, his imagination warming rapidly to this
new idea.

"How would you like to march a whole day
without food, sleep on the bare ground in a
soaking rain, with only a knapsack under your
head, and get up at dawn to fight a battle
before breakfast?" asked Vaughan.

"I should like it no better than others, I
dare say," laughed the young man; " but I
shouldn't mind trying it. I wish Castletowers
could go. We've been planning to make a tour
together by-and-by; but a Sicilian campaign
would be a hundred times better."

"If he were as free as yourself, Castletowers
would be off with me to-morrow morning," said
Vaughan; and then his brow darkened again as
he remembered how not only Saxon, whom he
suspected of admiring Olimpia Colonna, but the
Earl, of whose admiration he had no doubt
whatever, would both remain behind, free to
woo or win her, if they could, when he was far
away.

It was not a pleasant reflection, and at that
moment the rejected lover felt that he hated
them both, cordially.

"Which route do you take?" asked Saxon,
all unconscious of what was passing in his
companion's mind.

"The most direct, of course—Dover, Calais,
and Marseilles. I shall be in Genoa by eight
or nine o'clock on Sunday evening."

"And I at Castletowers."

"How is that?" said Vaughan, sharply; " I
thought you said your time was up yesterday?"

"So it was; but Castletowers has insisted
that I shall prolong my visit by another week,
and so I go back this evening. How we shall
miss you at dinner!"

But to this civility the Major responded only
by a growl.

CHAPTER XLVI. WILLIAM TREFALDEN EXPLAINS
THE THEORY OF LEGAL FICTIONS.

SIGNOR NAZZARI was a tall, spare, spider-like
Italian, who exercised the calling of a stock and
share broker, and rented a tiny office under a
dark arch in the midst of that curious web of