“I hope I may be able to show you some kindness, for you seem sorely in need of it.”
Gilardoni clasped his hands, and looked at the captain.
“I will serve you truly and well, if you will let me,” he cried.
“What recommendations—what credentials have you to show?” asked Captain Desfrayne.
The man eagerly unbuttoned his shabby, threadbare coat, and, diving his thin fingers into an inner pocket, drew forth a bundle of letters and papers. He chose one document, which he extended to Captain Desfrayne.
“This is a written character from my poor master, sir. You knew his writing—you will see what he says of me.”
Captain Desfrayne took the envelope; and opening it, was about to extract the enclosure, when a small, folded morsel of note-paper fell out, and dropped on the table. Quick as lightning, Gilardoni snatched it up—not rudely, but with a kind of panic expressed in his face and in every gesture.
Captain Desfrayne’s eye had caught sight of the characters before he was aware that he was guilty of any possible indiscretion in looking upon them.
The blood rushed to his face, and then receded to his heart. Only too easily did he recognize the ill-formed characters. It was the writing of the woman who had influenced his life for evil—the beautiful Signora Guiscardini.
With infinite presence of mind, he affected not to have particularly observed the stray, fluttering paper, and began to read the letter of recommendation.