Old Saracinesca kept his word, and on the following morning, eight days after Corona's excursion upon the hills, he rode down to Astrardente, reaching the palace at about mid-day.

He sent in his card, and stood waiting beneath the great gate, beating the dust from his boots with his heavy whip.

His face looked darker than ever, from constant exposure to the sun, and his close-cropped hair and short square beard had turned even whiter than before in the last six months, but his strong form was erect, and his step firm and elastic.

He was a remarkable old man; many a boy of twenty might have envied his strength and energetic vitality.
Corona was at her mid-day breakfast with Sister Gabrielle, when the old Prince's card was brought.

She started at the sight of the name; and though upon the bit of pasteboard she read plainly enough, "_Il Principe di Saracinesca_," she hesitated, and asked the butler if it was really the Prince.