"Perhaps I had better go too," suggested Ascanio Bellegra, rather timidly. But his father threw his arms round him and held him tightly.
"Do you think I will lose another child?" he cried. "No, no, no—figlio mio—you shall never go out into the midst of a revolution."
Sant' Ilario looked on gravely, though he inwardly despised the poor old man for his weakness. San Giacinto stood against the wall, waiting, with, a grim smile of amusement on his face. He was measuring Ascanio Bellegra with his eye and thought he would not care for his assistance. The princess looked scornfully at her husband and son.
"We are losing time," said Sant' Ilario at last to his cousin. "I promise you to bring you your daughter," he added gravely, turning to the princess. Then the two went away together, leaving Prince Montevarchi still lamenting himself to his wife and son. Flavia had taken no part in the conversation, having entered the hall and gone to her room at once.
The cousins left the palace together and walked a little way down the street, before either spoke. Then Sant' Ilario stopped short.
"Does it strike you that we have undertaken rather a difficult mission?" he asked.
"A very difficult one," answered San Giacinto.
"Rome is not the largest city in the world, but I have not the slightest idea where to look for that child. She certainly left our house. She certainly has not returned to her own. Between the two, practically, there lies the whole of Rome. I think the best thing to do, will be to go to the police, if any of them can be found."
"Or to the Zouaves," said San Giacinto.
"Why to the Zouaves? I do not understand you."