"Are there any 'lost waters' under the palace?" asked the expert.
"I do not know," replied the mason, looking away from the lantern
towards the gloom of the cellars.
"I believe," said the snuffy gentleman, setting down his lantern, and
taking a large pinch from a battered silver snuff-box, on which the
arms of Pius Ninth were still distinguishable, "I believe that the
nearest 'lost water' to this place is somewhere under the Vicolo del
Soldati."
"I do not know."
The expert skilfully inserted the brown dust into his nostrils with
his right thumb, scarcely wasting a grain in the operation.
"You do not seem to know much," he observed thoughtfully, and took up
his lantern again.
"I know what I have been taught," replied the mason without
resentment.
The expert glanced at him quickly, but said nothing more. His
inspection was finished, and he led the way out of the intricate
cellars as if he knew them by heart, though he had only passed through
them once, and he left the palace on foot when he had brushed some of
the dust from his shabby clothes.
The porter looked enquiringly at the two men, as they filled little
clay pipes that had cane stems, standing under the deep entrance.
"Not even the price of half a litre of wine," said the mason in answer
to the mute question.
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