"Who brought this?" I demanded, quickening my pace, and signing to Vincenzo to keep beside me.

"The old man, eccellenza--Giacomo. He was weeping and in great trouble--he said the little donzella had the fever in her throat--it is the diphtheria he means, I think. She was taken ill in the middle of the night, but the nurse thought it was nothing serious. This morning she has been getting worse, and is in danger."

"A doctor has been sent for, of course?"

"Yes, eccellenza. So Giacomo said. But--"

"But WHAT?" I asked, quickly.

"Nothing, eccellenza! Only the old man said the doctor had come too late."

My heart sunk heavily, and a sob rose in my throat. I stopped in my rapid walk and bade Vincenzo call a carriage, one of the ordinary vehicles that are everywhere standing about for hire in the principal thoroughfares of Naples. I sprung into this and told the driver to take me as quickly as possible to the Villa Romani, and adding to Vincenzo that I should not return to the hotel all day, I was soon rattling along the uphill road. On my arrival at the villa I found the gates open, as though in expectation of my visit, and as I approached the entrance door of the house, Giacomo himself met me.

"How is the child?" I asked him eagerly.