CHAPTER VII.
On the day following Nino's _debut_, Maestro Ercole de Pretis found himself in hot water, and the choristers at St.Peter's noticed that his skull-cap was awry, and that he sang out of tune; and once he tried to take a pinch of snuff when there was only three bars' rest in the music, so that instead of singing C sharp he sneezed very loud.
Then all the other singers giggled, and said, "Salute!"-- which we always say to a person who sneezes--quite audibly.
It was not that Ercole had heard anything from the Graf von Lira as yet; but he expected to hear, and did not relish the prospect.

Indeed, how could the Prussian gentleman fail to resent what the maestro had done in introducing to him a singer disguised as a teacher?
It chanced, also, that the contessina took a singing lesson that very day in the afternoon, and it was clear that the reaping of his evil deeds was not far off.

His conscience did not trouble him at all, it is true, for I have told you that he has liberal ideas about the right of marriage; but his vanity was sorely afflicted at the idea of abandoning such a very noble and creditable pupil as the Contessina di Lira.

He applauded himself for furthering Nino's wild schemes, and he blamed himself for being so reckless about his own interests.

Every moment he expected a formal notice from the count to discontinue the lessons.