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Updated: May 6, 2025
Now you clearly see the sequence of events, though you see them, of course, in the inverse order to the way in which they presented themselves to me. Beppo had the pearl in his possession. He may have stolen it from Pietro, he may have been Pietro's confederate, he may have been the go-between of Pietro and his sister. It is of no consequence to us which is the correct solution.
The blood of my friends is on that man's head." "I will finish what I have to say," pursued Merthyr. "When Beppo had related as much as he could make out from his sweetheart's translation, I went straight to the duchess. She is an Austrian, and a good and reasonable woman. She informed me that a letter addressed by Countess Anna to Countess d'Isorella fell into her hands this night.
The duke did not alight, but put his head out of the carriage window and beckoned the man to approach him. Beppo came up, curiosity expressing itself in every feature of his speaking countenance. "You have a young gentleman and lady a young married couple staying with you?" said the duke, but speaking in the Italian language. "No, Excellenzo. The signora is here.
Go away, if you please. Good-evening." She dropped a curtsey with a surly coquetry, charming of its kind. Beppo protested that the room was dear to him because there first he had known for one blissful half-second the sweetness of her mouth. "Who told you that persons who don't like your mistress are going to talk in there?" said Aennchen. "You," said Beppo.
There were papers to sign and boxes to pack. Beppo seemed to smell in the air that something was about to happen. All day long he hung around the hut, whining and sniffing. Now and then he would throw back his head and give a long, sorrowful bay, which echoed from some distant point in the pine wood. The last day came, the last kisses.
He carried it to his quarters, where he appended the as he deemed it conciliatory passage: after which he handed it to Beppo, in a square of the barracks, with a buon'mano that Beppo received bowing, and tossed to an old decorated regimental dog of many wounds and a veteran's gravity.
He came in front of the Italian, halted and, gazing steadfastly at him, said: "My good fellow, I have, as you know, obtained freedom for yourself and Beppo by pledging my word to the Procureur de la République that both of you shall at once quit the country. On your side you have done as you agreed and I am now about to execute my part of the bargain."
Perched on the rocky hillside, he would look down upon a gathering of black specks, where two others stood detached upon a space in their midst, and would know that there his father was hanging a man. Sometimes it was more than one, and that made Beppo afraid.
Do I know that photograph? No, I don't. Yes, I do, though. Why, it's Beppo. He was a kind of Italian piece-work man, who made himself useful in the shop. He could carve a bit and gild and frame, and do odd jobs. The fellow left me last week, and I've heard nothing of him since. No, I don't know where he came from nor where he went to. I have nothing against him while he was here.
Old Beppo hastened to prepare his gondola, and while so doing, muttered to himself, "Well, well this is a good night's work. I'm getting old, and I must soon retire from business. Every stroke of luck like this helps on the day when I shall call Zanetta mine. So, there's another old fool to be duped to-night! Serve him right! Why don't he keep his treasure under lock and key, as I do?
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