"Good morning, Prince," said the man. "I hope you have slept well."
"Sor Giovanni!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "Where did you drop from?"
"The roads are not very safe," returned the innkeeper. "So I thought it best to accompany you. Good-bye—buon viaggio!"
Before the Prince could answer, the carriage rolled off, the horses springing forward at a gallop. Saracinesca put his head out of the window, but his namesake had disappeared, and he rolled on towards Terni, wondering at the innkeeper's anxiety for his safety.
CHAPTER XXX.
Even old Saracinesca's iron strength was in need of rest when, at the end of forty-eight hours, he again entered his son's rooms, and threw himself upon the great divan.
"How is Corona?" was his first question.
"She is very anxious about you," returned Giovanni, who was himself considerably disturbed.
"We will go and set her mind at rest as soon as I have had something to eat," said his father.
"It is all right, then? It was just as I said—a namesake?"