“I do not know,—­I am a good friend to you,” she answered.

“Indeed you are; but do you not think it would be possible to cement our friendship even more closely yet?”

Donna Tullia looked up sharply; she had no idea of allowing him to propose to marry her.  His face, however, was grave—­unlike his usual expression when he meant to be tender, and which she knew very well.

“I do not know,” she said, with a light laugh.  “How do you mean?”

“If I could do you some great service—­if I could by any means satisfy what is now your chief desire in life—­would not that help to cement our friendship, as I said?”

“Perhaps,” she answered, thoughtfully.  “But then you do not know—­you cannot guess even—­what I most wish at this moment.”

“I think I could,” said Del Ferice, fixing his eyes upon her.  “I am sure I could, but I will not.  I should risk offending you.”

“No; I will not be angry.  You may guess if you please.”  Donna Tullia in her turn looked, fixedly at her companion.  They seemed trying to read each other’s thoughts.

“Very well,” said Ugo at last, “I will tell you.  You would like to see the Astrardente dead and Giovanni Saracinesca profoundly humiliated.”

Donna Tullia started.  But indeed there was nothing strange in her companion’s knowledge of her feelings.  Many people, being asked what she felt, would very likely have said the same, for the world had seen her discomfiture and had laughed at it.

“You are a very singular man,” she said, uneasily.

“In other words,” replied Del Ferice, calmly, “I am perfectly right in my surmises.  I see it in your face.  Of course,” he added, with a laugh, “it is mere jest.  But the thing is quite possible.  If I fulfilled your desire of just and poetic vengeance, what would you give me?”

Donna Tullia laughed in her turn, to conceal the extreme interest she felt in what he said.

“Whatever you like,” she said.  But even while the laugh was on her lips her eyes sought his uneasily.

“Would you marry me, for instance, as the enchanted princess in the fairy story marries the prince who frees her from the spell?” He seemed immensely amused at the idea.

“Why not?” she laughed.

“It would be the only just recompense,” he answered.  “See how impossible the thing appears.  And yet a few pounds of dynamite would blow up the Great Pyramid.  Giovanni Saracinesca is not so strong as he looks.”

“Oh, I would not have him hurt!” exclaimed Donna Tullia in alarm.

“I do not mean physically, nor morally, but socially.”

“How?”

“That is my secret,” returned Del Ferice, quietly.

“It sounds as though you were pretending to know more than you really do,” she answered.

“No; it is the plain truth,” said Del Ferice, quietly.  “If you were in earnest I might be willing to tell you what the secret is, but for a mere jest I cannot.  It is far too serious a matter.”