money from a rich gentleman as the price of her virtue. But there was no such talk anywhere. This was reassuring in one way, as tending to show that nobody knew anything about it, and therefore the trouble was not so great as it might have been; but the name, the name?
At last Abellino himself came to help them in their search.
Alexander used to go every Sunday to the church which Dame Kramm frequented, and, leaning against a column, would watch to see with whom the spinster conversed.
On the third Sunday Abellino appeared upon the scene also.
The worthy spinster told him the marvellous story of how Fanny and her aunt had unexpectedly disappeared one night without telling her whither they had gone, which was not very nice of them; but she suspected that they had flitted to Mr. Boltay's house, and Teresa had kept it quiet, no doubt, because there had been certain relations between her and Boltay in their younger days, or perhaps she went to see him because Boltay's adopted son wanted to marry Fanny. As for herself, she did not mean to trouble her head about them any more.
Abellino bit his lips till the blood came, he was so angry. Could these Philistines smell a rat, then?
"What sort of an artisan is this Boltay?" he inquired of Dame Kramm.
"A carpenter," was the reply.
"A carpenter!" and in a moment Abellino had a new plan already in his head.
"Well, God be with you, madam!" said he; and, having no further use of her, he hurried out of the building, with Alexander at his heels. So at last, then, he had found the tempter in church.