“It will be a little difficult, sir.  I would rather speak to the lady alone.”

Regina had stood listening in silence, and looking intently at Ercole’s face.

“Let me speak to him,” she said to Marcello.  “What is your full name?” she asked, turning to Ercole again.

“Spalletta Ercole, to serve you,” was the prompt answer.

“Spalletta?” Marcello asked in surprise, for strange as it may seem to any but Italians, it was quite natural that he should never have known Ercole’s family name.  “Spalletta?  That is your own name, Regina!  What a strange coincidence!”

“Yes,” Ercole said.  “I know that the young lady’s name is Spalletta.  It is for this reason that I desire the favour of a few words with her alone.”

“There is no need,” Regina answered.  “Since we have the same name, there is no doubt.  I remember your face now, though until last night I had not seen you since I was a little child.  Yes.  I know what you have come to say, and it is quite true.”

“What?” asked Marcello with some anxiety.

“This man is my father,” Regina said, very quietly.

“Your father!” Marcello made half a step backwards in his surprise.

“Yes.  I have told you what he did.”  She turned to Ercole.  “What do you want of me?  Is it money that you want, perhaps?”

Ercole stiffened himself and seemed to grow taller.  His black eyes flashed dangerously, and his heavy eyebrows were suddenly stern and level, as Regina’s were.

“You are your mother’s daughter,” he said slowly.  “Did I take money from her?  I took blood, and when I was tried for it, I was set free.  I was told that it was my right under our law.  I do not want money.  I have brought you money.  There it is.  It will buy you some bread when your lover turns you into the street!”

He took out his old sheepskin purse with a quick movement, and laughed harshly as he tossed it at her.  Marcello sprang forward and caught him by the collar, to thrust him out of the room; but Ercole was tough and wiry, and resisted.

“Will you hinder me from giving money to my daughter?” he asked fiercely.  “It was yours, for you paid it to me; but when I knew, I saved my wages to give them back, for I will not take your money, sir!  Take your hands from me, sir!  I have a right to be here and to speak.  Let me go, I tell you!  I am not in your service any longer.  I do not eat your cursed bread.  I am this woman’s father, and I shall say what I will.”

Marcello withdrew his hands and pointed to the door.

“Go!” he said, in a voice of command.

Ercole backed away a little, and then stood still again.

“I have to tell you that I have spent five francs of that money,” he said, speaking to Regina.  “But it was spent for you.  I found a good monk, and I gave him the five francs to say three masses for your soul.  The masses were said in August, and now it is November, and you are still alive!”