“Not quite,” said Calabressa, still hesitating.  “He allowed us to try.  He was doubtful himself.”

“I should have thought so,” said the other, ironically.  “No, good Calabressa; we cannot accept the services of a maniac.  The night has got dark; I cannot see whether you are surprised.  How do we know?  The man Kirski has been twice examined—­once in Venice, once this morning, when you went down to the Luisa; the reports the same.  What!  To have a maniac blundering about the gates, attracting every one’s notice by his gibberish; then he is arrested with a pistol or a knife in his hand; he talks nonsense about some Madonna; he is frightened into a confession, and we become the laughing-stock of Europe!  Impossible, impossible, my Calabressa:  where were your wits?  No wonder Lind was doubtful—­”

“The man is capable of being taught,” said Calabressa, humbly.

“We need not waste more breath, my friend.  To-night Lind will be reminded why it was necessary that the execution of this decree was intrusted to the English section:  he must not send any Russian madman to compromise us.”

“Then I must take him back, your Excellency!”

“No; send him back—­with the English scholar.  You will remain in Naples, Calabressa.  There is something stirring that will interest you.”

“I am at your service, Excellency.”

“Good-night, dear friend.”

The figure beside him had disappeared almost before he had time to return the salutation, and he was left to find his way down to the gate, taking care not to run unawares on one of the long cactus spines.  He discovered Edwards precisely where he had left him.

“Ah, Monsieur Edouarts, now you may clap your hands—­now you may shout an English ‘hurrah!’ For you, at all events, there is good news.”

“That project has been abandoned, then?” said Edwards, eagerly.

“No, no, no!” said Calabressa, loftily; as if he had never entertained such a possibility.  “Do you think the Council is to be played with—­is to be bribed by so many and so many lire?  No, no.  Its decree is inviolable.”

“Well, then?”

“Well, then, some stupidities of our Russian friend have saved you:  they know everything, these wonderful people:  they say, ’No; we will not trust the affair to a madman.’  Do you perceive?  What you have to do now is to take Kirski back to England.”

“And I am not wanted any longer?” said the other, with the same eagerness.

“I presume not.  I am.  I remain in Naples.  For you, you are free.  Away to England!  I give you my blessing; and to-night—­to-night you will give me a bottle of wine.”

But presently he added, as they still walked on,

“Friend Edouarts, do you think I should be humiliated because my little plan has been refused?  No:  it was born of idleness.  My freedom was new to me; over in England I had nothing to do.  And when Lind objected, I talked him over. Peste, if those fellows of Society had not got at the Russian, all might have been well.”