"Thanks," I replied, offering him a seat, "we are all quite safe. Nothing happened. The Don was not there, either he had changed his mind, or we were in too strong force."
"A little of both, I should think," he said with a thin smile, as he placed his book on the table. "Signore," he went on, "are you not a little surprised and curious to see me as I am?"
"Well, Messer Corte, I will own to it. But I am honestly glad that Fortune has given the wheel a right turn for you."
"It is not Fortune," he said, "it is something greater. It is Fate. No chance turn of the wheel of a sleeping goddess. When I fled from you, signore, on that day," his voice choked a little, "I came to Rome. Never mind how. Here a great man found me. Great men pick up little things for their purposes sometimes. And Matthew Corte, who is but a little man, knows things the great man does not know. Ho! ho!" and he laughed mirthlessly.
"And that has put crowns in your purse?"
"Yes, crowns in my purse, crowns in my purse," he repeated, and then the old madness came upon him, and he rose and paced the room. "I could have done it last night, made the hilt of my dagger ring against his heart--the devil--the devil. But he is not to die this way--not thus--not thus. He will die as no other man has died, and it will come soon, very soon--Matthew Corte swears this."
He stopped suddenly, and turned to me with the question:
"Have you ever seen a mad dog die?"
"No," I answered, wondering what would come next.
"Well, my dog is dead."