CHAPTER VI.
I RETURNED at the top of my speed to the village where I had left the mules, had the animals saddled immediately, and succeeded in getting back to Fondi a little before sunset.
While ascending the stairs of our hotel, I suffered under the most painful uncertainty as to how I should best communicate the news of my discovery to Alfred.

If I could not succeed in preparing him properly for my tidings, the results, with such an organization as his, might be fatal.

On opening the door of his room, I felt by no means sure of myself; and when I confronted him, his manner of receiving me took me so much by surprise that, for a moment or two, I lost my self-possession altogether.
Every trace of the lethargy in which he was sunk when I had last seen him had disappeared.

His eyes were bright, his cheeks deeply flushed.

As I entered, he started up, and refused my offered hand.
"You have not treated me like a friend," he said, passionately; "you had no right to continue the search unless I searched with you--you had no right to leave me here alone.