the men that nothing special had happened, no one had shown the slightest sign of infirmity and all seemed in perfect health.
We then began to file before the window, one by one, in order to be inspected. But the doctor and Atto had so arranged matters as thoroughly to confuse the three inspectors. Cristofano led Stilone Priaso, then Robleda, and finally Bedfordi to the window, while the three were calling the names of other guests. Cristofano excused himself several times for involuntarily mixing up names, but in the meanwhile a considerable confusion had arisen. When Pellegrino's turn came, Bedfordi succeeded in creating yet more chaos: he began to scream and shout in English, asking (as Atto Melani explained) to be freed forthwith. The three inspectors responded with insults and mockery, but in the meantime Pellegrino passed by rapidly. He seemed to be in perfect form: his hair was well combed, his pale cheeks had been coloured with Cloridia's rouge. At the same time,
Devize began to gesticulate and to protest at our reclusion, completely distracting the inspectors' attention from Pellegrino. Thus it was that they concluded their visit without becoming aware of my master's wretched state of health.
While I was considering these expedients, Abbot Melani plucked my sleeve and drew me through the door. He wanted to know where Pellegrino was wont to deposit the valuables which travellers entrusted to him on their arrival. I drew back, manifestly shocked by the question: the place was obviously secret. Even when no treasures were stored there, that was where my master always hid the sums of money which customers left in his care. I recalled the dismal repute in which Cristofano, Stilone Priaso and Devize held Atto.
'I imagine,' added the abbot, 'that your master always keeps the key on his person.'
I was about to reply when I glanced at Pellegrino through the doorway while he was being brought back into his chamber. The bunch of keys on an iron ring which my master kept attached to his breeches night and day was not in its place.
I rushed down to the cellar, where I kept the spare keys hidden in a hole in the wall of which only I knew the existence. They were there. Taking care not to attract the attention of the guests (who, still in a state of excitement at the success of our stratagem, were making their way downstairs for their evening meal), I returned to the third floor.
Now, I should explain that between each floor there were two flights of stairs. At the top of each of these was a landing. Well, on the landing between the second and third floors was the little door that gave access to the closet where the valuables were kept.
I made sure that no one was in the vicinity, then entered. I drew out the stone, set into the wall, behind which lay the little coffer. I opened it. Nothing was missing: neither money nor the notes of deposits countersigned by customers. I grew calmer.
'Now, the question is: who has taken Master Pellegrino's keys?'
The voice was Abbot Melani's. He had followed me. He entered and closed the door behind him.
'It would appear that we have a thief among us,' he commented, almost amusedly. Then he stopped, looking alarmed: 'Silence. Someone is coming.' And he nodded in the direction of the landing.
He signalled to me to look outside, which I did most unwillingly. I heard vague notes from Devize's guitar rising from the ground floor. Nothing more.
I invited the abbot to quit the closet forthwith, desiring as I did to keep our contacts to a minimum. While he was slipping out through the narrow doorway, I saw him look at the little coffer with a rather worried expression.
'What is it now, Signor Abbot?' I asked, striving to hide my growing anxiety and to restrain the discourteous tone that was rising to my lips.
'I was thinking: it makes no sense that whoever stole the bunch of keys should have taken nothing from the strong-box of the inn. Are you really sure that you looked through it thoroughly?'
I went back to see: the money was there, the deposit notes too; what else should there be? Then, I remembered: the little pearls which Brenozzi had given me.
Gone was the Venetian's bizarre and fascinating gift, which I had jealously concealed among the other valuables. But why had the thief taken nothing else? After all, there were considerable sums of money there, far more visible and readily exchangeable than my little pearls.
'Calm down. We shall now go down to my apartment and there we shall examine the situation,' said he.
Then, seeing that I was about to refuse, he added: 'If you want to see your pearls again.'
Reluctantly, I consented.
Once in his chamber, the abbot invited me to take a seat. He was aware of my agitation.
'We are faced with two possibilities,' he began. 'Either the thief has already done all that he intended to, in other words, to steal your pearls, or else he did not succeed in completing whatever it was that he planned. And I tend towards the second option.'
'Why? I have already told you what Cristofano explained to me: those pearls have to do with poison and with seeming death. And perhaps Brenozzi knows something.'
'For the time being, at least, let us drop the matter, my boy,' said he, laughing. 'Not that your little pearls are worthless, on the contrary; nor that they lack the powers which our physician ascribes to them.
But I opine that the thief had something else to do in that closet. It is halfway between the second and the third floor; and ever since Master Pellegrino's inert body was found, there has been so much coming and going in that vicinity, that he has been unable to operate at ease.'
'So?'
'So, I think that the thief will have more to do in that cupboard, and that he will act under cover of night. No one yet knows that you have discovered the theft of the keys. If you do not warn the lodgers, the thief will think that he can operate in peace.'
'Very well,' said I, acquiescing at last, albeit diffidently. 'I shall let the night pass before I put them on their guard. Pray heaven that no ill befalls them.'
I looked obliquely at the abbot and decided to put to him the question which I had been holding in reserve for some time: 'Do you think that the thief killed Signor di Mourai and perhaps tried to do the same to my master?'
'Everything is possible,' replied Melani, inflating his cheeks curiously and pursing his lips. 'Cardinal Mazarin was wont to say to me: thinking bad thoughts, one commits a sin; but one always guesses rightly.'
The source of my diffidence about him must have been clear to the abbot, yet he asked no questions and continued imperturbably: 'As regards Mourai, this morning I was about to propose to you that we undertake a little exploration, but then your master fell ill.'
'What do you mean?'
'I think the time has come to search the rooms of the poor old man's two travelling companions. And you have copies of all the keys.'
'You intend to enter Dulcibeni's and Devize's apartments by stealth? And you want me to help you?' I asked in consternation.
'Come, do not look at me like that. Think about it: if anyone is to be suspected of having something to do with the death of the old Frenchman, it must indeed be Dulcibeni and Devize. They arrived at the Donzello together with Mourai, coming from Naples, and have stayed here for over a month. Devize, with his tale of the Cocomero, has shown that he probably has something to hide. Pompeo Dulcibeni even shared his chamber with the dead man. They may well be innocent, but they surely know more than anyone else about the dead man.'
'And what do you hope to find in their apartments?'
'I shall not know until I have entered,' he replied coldly.
Once again my ears resounded with the horrible things which Devize had uttered about Melani.
'I cannot give you a copy of their keys,' said I, upon reflection.
Melani understood that it would be useless to insist and remained silent.
'For the rest, however, I am at your service,' I added in a gentler tone, thinking of my lost pearls. 'I could, for instance, put some questions to Devize and Dulcibeni, and try to make them talk…'
'Please, please… You would obtain nothing from them and you would put them on their guard. Let us move step by step: let us first endeavour to understand who it was that stole the keys and your pearls.'
Atto then explained his idea to me: after dinner, we would watch over the stairs from our respective chambers, I on the third floor and he on the second. We would pass a string between my window and his (our
