To its chimes the fortunes of da Sestos and myself were to dance merrily.

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CHAPTER V

The day following I was strangely depressed. I had run the gantlet of hope and doubt. Jacqueline’s various moods had baffled me. And the duke–frankly, I feared him. Jacqueline had so obviously admired him. He stood for the very qualities that I lacked. The glamour of his name, the luxurious environment he scorned so vigorously, his verve, and, above all, his alliance with Mrs. Gordon, made him a formidable rival. For that Mrs. Gordon, in some subtle way, had already come to a vague understanding with him, I did not doubt.

Two letters were on the tray that brought in my morning coffee. One from Jacqueline; the other from her brother. They called to me in quite different directions. Jacqueline to her side; the brother to his assistance in Rome. The young fool was in trouble–trouble serious enough to demand the assistance of one who had influence with the authorities. I happened to fill that position. I must go to his aid.

In Jacqueline’s letter I fancied I read a tenderness that was altogether new and delightful. 50It was no longer the reserved Jacqueline that spoke. There was a delightful shyness, but through the shyness spoke the woman who dared to be bold for the man she loved.

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She wished me to call at once. We would discuss the book together. And she had invited St. Hilary and myself to dinner that evening. After I had left them yesterday he had hinted at a wonderful story about the old clock. She would make him talk. I should have copy for one of my legends at least.

But I could not hesitate as to my destination. For, in assisting her brother, I would be doing Jacqueline a favor. Unfortunately, I could not tell her why I had to leave Venice so peremptorily. Neither she nor her aunt must know that the youngster had made an ass of himself. I wrote her merely that an affair of importance had called me to Rome. I caught the first train south.

Ten days passed before I sniffed once more the pungent odor of the lagoons. There had been complications and delays; and in his remorse the boy had had a touch of Roman fever. I could not leave him like that.

A letter from Jacqueline awaited me. It had arrived only a day or two before. Her annoyance at my sudden flight from Venice was 

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