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The soldiers looked on stolidly, the porter kept his eyes and ears open, and Gigi, full of curiosity, wore the expression of a smiling weasel. To the porter's knowledge, so far as it went, no woman but his own wife had entered the palace since Malipieri had been living in it. Malipieri made no answer to Volterra's last speech, and walked up and down, seeking a solution.
"The wicked eye of him!" he said, talking to himself. "How like it is! Strange, strange! About nine years old, he is. Nine years ago " He paused, gazing at Gigi, and murmuring under his breath. "What are you wearing about your neck?" he asked suddenly.
Both Volterra and Malipieri had guessed that the anonymous letter had been written by Gigi, the carpenter, but Volterra had seen it several days before the Princess had shown it to Malipieri. Not unnaturally, the Baron thought that it would be a good move to get the man into his power.
"He's finished right now, but he doesn't know it." Brett smiled. "He's borrowed heavily just on this race, and when he loses, the banks will close him up. Kit Barnard is through." "We regret to announce that the spaceship La Belle France, piloted by Gigi Duarte, has crashed!" Captain Strong's voice was choked with emotion as he made the announcement over the spaceport public-address system.
Malipieri had not Volterra's influence, and intended to try more personal methods with the carpenter; but when he appeared at the palace in the afternoon, and asked the porter to go and call Gigi, the old man shook his head and said that Gigi had been in prison three days, and that nobody knew why he had been arrested. The matter had not even been mentioned by the Messaggero.
"Make no sudden movement and do not speak. They know my voice, and they will learn yours. But you are still a stranger to them, and must expect them to be shy." The animals crowded lovingly about the Hermit, some springing upon his shoulders and knees, the birds flitting about his head. Gigi thought he had never seen so wonderful a sight.
"Down, Brutus, down!" said the old man, in a tongue which Gigi could not understand. "Where hast thou been so long, good dog? And what new pet hast thou brought for my colony?" He looked towards Gigi with keen, kind eyes. "Come hither, my lad," he said in the same tongue. But Gigi only stared, not understanding.
But people of her class always fancy they are going to die, if they are ill enough to stay in bed. It is the panic of ignorance. Yes, I think it would do her good to see a priest. But there is not the slightest occasion for the Sacraments." So Peter sent Gigi to the village for the Parrocco.
"By the by," he said at last, "there is a gran signore who is gone to live in Fillettino, a crazy man, they say, with a beautiful daughter, but really beautiful, as an angel." I was so much surprised that I made a loud exclamation. "What is the matter?" asked Gigi. "It is nothing, Gigi," I answered, for I was afraid lest he should betray my secret, if I let him guess it. "It is nothing.
"Gigi made several attempts to see her, and he threatened to take the child from her, but he was always willing to compromise for money. I am afraid that he never really loved her and that we were both deceived by his fervent protestations. We managed to get away from Florence without his knowing it, and we have spent the last two years in Lausanne, very happily, though very quietly.
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