"Si, si," said the Cancelliere.
Gaspare set his teeth, walked away to the edge of the plateau, and stood
looking out to sea.
"Then no one saw you?" persisted the Pretore.
"Non lo so," said Salvatore. "I did not think of such things. I wanted to
go to Messina, so I sent Maddalena to pass the night in the village, and
I took the boat. What else should I do?"
"Va bene! Va bene!" said the Cancelliere.
The Maresciallo cleared his throat again. That, and the ceremony which
invariably followed, were his only contributions to this official
proceeding.
The Pretore, receiving no assistance from his colleagues, seemed doubtful
what more to do. It was evident to Artois that he was faintly suspicious,
that he was not thoroughly satisfied about the cause of this death.
"Your daughter seems very upset about all this," he said to Salvatore.
"Mamma mia! And how should she not? Why, Signor Pretore, we loved the
poor signore. We would have thrown ourselves into the sea for him. When
we saw him coming down from the mountain to us it was as if we saw God
coming down from heaven."
"Certo! Certo!" said the Cancelliere.
"I think every one who knew the signore at all grew to be very fond of
him," said Artois, quietly. "He was greatly beloved here by every one."
His manner to the Pretore was very civil, even respectful. Evidently it
had its effect upon that personage. Every one here seemed to be assured
that this death was merely an accident, could only have been an accident.
He did not know what more to do.
"Va bene!" he said at last, with some reluctance. "We shall see what the
doctors say when the autopsy is concluded. Let us hope that nothing will
be discovered. I do not wish to distress the poor signora. At the same
time I must do my duty. That is evident."
"It seems to me you have done it with admirable thoroughness," said
Artois.
"Grazie, Signor Barone, grazie!"
"Grazie, grazie, Signor Barone!" added the Cancelliere.
"Grazie, Signor Barone!" said the deep voice of the Maresciallo.
The authorities now slowly prepared to take their departure.
"You are coming with us, Signor Barone?" said the Pretore.
Artois was about to say yes, when he saw pass across the aperture of the
doorway of the cottage the figure of a girl with bent head. It
disappeared immediately.