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Updated: June 20, 2025
When Giannoli informed me that he was a police-spy I really did not know whether to believe him or not. And as the weeks passed on, Giannoli's condition grew worse and worse, and I could see that a crisis must inevitably follow. Nor was I mistaken in this conviction.
"Moreover, it was ten years that I had lived with Rosalie, uninterruptedly.... Cela devenait tout-a-fait scandaleux, Mademoiselle.... I no longer dared show myself among my comrades." I felt quite sorry for the poor old fellow, a humble slave to duty, which he performed with evident disgust, but the most heroic determination. Giannoli, when seen apart from Gnecco, was a tall man.
As I knew him, among his few personal friends, Giannoli was loyal and honourable in the extreme, independent and proud. Like many other Anarchists he entertained an almost maniacal prejudice against plots and conspiracies of any kind, maintaining that such organisations were merely police traps and death-gins.
Such was the brief outline of facts as given by the Morning Post. Of course I had not the slightest doubt as to the identity of the prisoner; the state of weakness and ill-health which had caused him to miss his aim was conclusive, added to the many other reasons I had for supposing him to be Giannoli. This, then, was the deed he had been contemplating!
Early the following morning I found Giannoli and Kosinski, as prearranged, awaiting my arrival under the bridge of Waterloo Station. Both looked very washed out, with the fagged and pasty look of people who have been up all night.
"You doubtless know that Jean Matthieu, suspected of complicity in the P.... bomb explosions, has been hiding in London for some time past." I nodded assent: he had even been pointed out to me one evening by Giannoli at a meeting in the East End. "Well, since yesterday we have the certainty that the police are on his track, that they are aware of his whereabouts.
Kosinski, Armitage, and Giannoli, after making up and addressing the last parcel, had left for their respective abodes; Beppe and Meneghino, having turned the wheel the whole evening, had fallen to sleep exhausted, stretched on a bench in the machine-room; and I, after having partaken of a cup of tea and some hot buttered toast which old M'Dermott had provided for me, sat nodding and dozing on one side of the fire.
"It is for you, miss," that functionary said, reading the address, "but I have orders to open all correspondence. You will excuse my complying with them." My heart stood still. Could it be from Kosinski or Giannoli? After a moment the inspector handed the note to me. It was from the landlord a notice to quit. I walked up and showed it to Short. "Well, what will you do?" he inquired.
Still, of course, I have to go through all these papers; they may yet give us a clue to the whereabouts of Kosinski or your friend Giannoli;" and here he looked me straight in the face. "Maybe," I simply replied with a shrug.
I know Bonafede to be above personal ambition, but, take my word for it, most of these organisationists hope to organise themselves into comfortable places when their time comes! It is our duty to destroy them." No man, having once thrown himself into an idea, was ever more sincerely convinced of the truth of his beliefs or more strenuous in his efforts to propagandise them than Giannoli.
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