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Updated: June 27, 2025
"The mare is well, Excellency." Veronica made Don Teodoro sit beside her, and Elettra installed herself opposite them, with her mistress's bags and other things. The luggage was piled on a cart which was to follow, and they drove away. "I sent the carriage down yesterday," observed Don Teodoro. "I came by the coach this morning."
So they went to Veronica's room, and Elettra brought the tea things, and Matilde made tea, and they both drank it, and talked a little more, and gave the Maltese cat milk in a saucer, on the lower shelf of the little two-storied tea-table. Afterwards, Matilde went away to her room, and Veronica remained alone after Elettra had taken away the things.
As it was not yet time to go out, and in order to get rid of her aunt, Veronica bade Elettra take out a ball gown which needed some change and improvement, Matilde understood well enough that it was useless to wait longer for the chance of being again alone with her niece, and in a few minutes she went away. On the whole, she had the impression that the prospect was very good.
But Elettra kept them off, and took the news herself in the morning when Veronica rang for her. "A terrible thing has happened in the night," she said, when she had opened the windows. Veronica opened her eyes wide and then rubbed them slowly with her slim, dark fingers and looked again at Elettra. "It is a very terrible thing," continued the woman, gravely.
This is not a good house." The dark woman looked at him fixedly for several seconds, and then nodded twice. "It is well that you have told me, Father Curate," she said in a low voice. "I understand." That was all, and she turned to lead him out. After that, Elettra, unknown to Veronica, slept in the dressing-room every night.
Of course, it was absurd, for she had received the money when she had insisted upon having it, and if Elettra's room was damp, that quite explained her presence. Besides, Elettra could not be supposed to know what Don Teodoro had said to Veronica. And then, there was the rest of the story, all that connected Bosio and Matilde. She absolutely refused to think of believing that.
"Yes," answered Veronica, for it seemed a charitable suggestion so far as Bosio was concerned. "I am going out, now," she added suddenly. "May I have the carriage?" "Certainly. Shall we go together?" "Oh, no! I do not want you at all!" cried the young girl, frankly and laughing. "I have a secret. I will take Elettra with me." Elettra was the name of the maid. "Very well," replied Matilde.
She had determined, if she found the woman in bed, to wake her boldly, to say that she felt ill again and to tell her to go and heat some water. That would have taken some time. But Elettra was not there, and the bed, as usual of late, was untouched. Matilde looked about her hastily, at the same time extracting the package from the wide pocket of her dressing-gown.
Of all the things she had to do, in the course of that night and the following day, this was the only one with which any danger was connected, for at any moment Elettra might have come from Veronica's room to her own. The thing was possible, but not probable, between three and four o'clock in the morning.
Accident, or no accident, it was the blood of a Macomer for the blood of her own dead husband, murdered up there in Muro by the peasants because Macomer had burdened them beyond their power to pay. She said nothing, and Veronica expected no answer, but sat still, trying to think, while Elettra noiselessly set the big dressing-room in order.
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