"_Allons!_ Put this card away in a secret place. Do not show it to any
one; let no one know the name I confided to you. Can you remember it,
little daughter?"
"Bartolotti."
"Good! Now that is one point settled; here is the next. You do not seem
to have any portrait of your mother, my little one?"
"Ah, no!" she exclaimed, quickly; for she was more interested now. "I
suppose my father could not bear to be reminded of his loss: if there is
any portrait, I have not seen it; and how could I ask him?"
He regarded her for a moment, and then he spoke more slowly than
hitherto:
"Little Natalushka, I told you I am going away; and who knows what may
happen to me? I have no money or land to leave to any one; if I had a
wife and children, the only name I could leave them would be the name of
a jailbird. If I were to leave a will behind me, it would read, 'My
heart to my beloved Italia; my curse to Austria; and my--'Ah, yes, after
all I have something to leave to the little Natalushka."
He put his hand, which trembled somewhat, into the breast of his coat,
and brought out a small leather case.
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