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But there was that beyond of which he could not dream, and destiny, with leaden hands, was already upon him, on the day when a great, old-fashioned carriage, loaded with boxes and belongings, brought him and his to the door of Stefanone's house in Subiaco. Sora Nanna, grey-haired, and withered as a brown apple, but tough as leather still, stood on the threshold to receive them.
"What girl?" asked Griggs in wonder. "Why, the body of Stefanone's daughter, which he managed to burn in the convent when he carried off my cousin! How did you know about it?" "I did not know about it," said Griggs. "Your cousin? I do not understand." "My cousin yes Maria Braccio Gloria's mother! You have just been talking about her " "I?" asked Griggs, bewildered.
Her own was very white, but without a trace of pain. Something in the fierce action appealed strongly to the fiery Celtic nature of the man. His features relaxed instantly. "I believe you," he said, and she knew it as his arms went round her; and the pain of the wound made his kisses sweeter. WHEN Dalrymple left Maria on that day, he returned as usual to Stefanone's house.
But something in the absolutely gratuitous nature of Stefanone's advice moved his suspicions. He saw, with his intimate knowledge of the Roman peasant's character, the whole process of the old wine-seller's mind, if only, in the first place, the fellow had the desire to harass Dalrymple. That being granted, the rest was plain enough.
And Stefanone's square face grew thinner and his aquiline features more and more eagle-like, till the one-eyed cobbler noticed the change, and spoke of it. "You are consuming yourself for some female," he said. "You have white hair. This is a shameful thing." But Stefanone laughed, instead of resenting the speech a curiously nervous laugh. "What would you have?" he replied.
"The woman has relations who could handle a knife better than she." And he turned his face away. THE sun was high when Dalrymple left Sor Tommaso in charge of the old woman-servant and went back to Stefanone's house to dress himself with more care than he had bestowed upon his hasty toilet at dawn.
At the door of the little wine shop Stefanone was seated on one of the rush stools, his hat tilted over his eyes, and his white-stockinged legs crossed. He was smoking and looking down, but he recognized Griggs's step at some distance, and raised his eyes. Griggs nodded to him familiarly, passing along on the other side of the narrow street, and he saw Stefanone's expression.
Lord Redin had never gone down that lane before, to Stefanone's knowledge, and it was a hundred to one that at that hour no one would be about. Stefanone himself did not know the place. Dalrymple must have heard the quick and heavy footsteps of the peasant behind him, but it would not have been at all like him to turn his head.
She thought he must be mad. "No. They found another body. I put it into the bed and set fire to the mattress. It was burned beyond recognition, and they thought it was Maria. But it was the body of old Stefanone's daughter. I lived in his house. The girl poisoned herself with some of my chemicals I was a young doctor in those days.
If you find a flea, I will have him set in gold. You shall say, 'This is the flea that was found in Stefanone's house. In that way every one will know. I do not speak of the beds. The pope could sleep in the one in the large room at the head of the staircase, the pope with all his cardinals. They would say, 'Now we know that this is indeed a bed. Do you wish better than this? I do not know.
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