One of the six, a man who kept a tavern at Santa Sabina, immediately began to relate that his wife had heard a carriage stop near the tavern, in the middle of the night; she had gone to the window, and had seen a private carriage, with coachman and footman in tall hats. The footman, standing at the carriage door, was helping some one to alight. The person who got out had then walked past the window, going towards Sant’ Anselmo, and she had recognised in him the Saint of Jenne. The tavern-keeper added that he had not believed she had really recognised him, for there was no moon, and it had rained until after eleven o’clock, so the night must have been quite dark; therefore he had not spoken. But when he had heard this story at the police-station, he had been convinced. Besides, his wife could tell something more. She had risen at six. Between seven and eight a cab had passed, going in the direction of Sant’ Anselmo. Shortly afterwards the cab had returned, and this time his wife had seen the Saint of Jenne inside it. She was ready to swear to this.
At this point several of those present slipped out of the enclosure, and hastened to whisper the news in the district. Thus it happened that while the tobacconist, the tavern-keeper, and their friends were still in the enclosure, people began to gather on the road to Santa Sabina, and a large group started in the direction of the tavern, two policemen following.
They entered the courtyard. The hostess was gossiping with a client, under the pergola. They questioned her, and she related the story she had told her husband. They cross-examined her, wishing to know this and that, with many details. The woman ended by saying she did not remember anything more. She would go and fetch something to drink, something to refresh their throats and her memory. Che! Nonsense! They had not come to drink, and they told her so, rudely. Two railway men, sitting at a table under the neighbouring pergola, were annoyed by this cross-examination. One of them called the hostess, and said to her, in a loud voice:
“What is it they want to know? I myself saw the man they are after. He left this morning at eight o’clock, with a girl, by the Pisa line.”
The crowd turned to him, questioning him now, and he swore, angrily, that he was telling the truth. Their Saint had started at eight o’clock, in a second-class carriage, with a handsome fair girl, who was very well known! Then the people slowly slunk away. When they were all gone, a policeman in plain clothes approached the railway man, and, in his turn, asked him if he were quite sure of what he had said.
“I?” the man replied. “Sure? Curse them! I know nothing about it, but I have quieted them, anyway; and they may go to the devil for all I care, the silly fools! Now they will run as far as Civitavecchia at least, and may the sea swallow them and their Saint too!”
“But then, where has he gone?” the hostess exclaimed.
“Go and look for him in the cellar,” the man answered. “The flask is empty, and we are still thirsty.”
II. “If you go on like this,” Carlino exclaimed, hearing Jeanne order her maid to bring her hat, gloves, and fur, “if you leave me alone all day long, I swear to you we will return to Villa Diedo. There, at least, you will not know where to go.” “I have arranged to send Chieco to you,” she said. “To-day at two he is to play for the Queen, and then he will come to you. Good-bye.”
And she went out without giving her brother time to reply. Her coupé was waiting for her. She gave the footman the address of the Under-Secretary of the Interior, and entered the carriage.