"Don't stand there talking, fool, I'm coming in." He smiled cruelly. "You won't refuse a lodging to me, Gambi, surely."
The old man drew aside, and the hand holding the candle trembled. The visitor made his way into the kitchen of the hotel.
For a fortnight now the man had been sitting almost incessantly at the window looking down into the Cathedral Square. He had seen many happenings—the State procession of the new King and Queen when they attended Mass, the shouts of the multitude, and the smiles of the royal beauty in the carriage.
One night, too, a huge bonfire had been lighted in the square, and an effigy, whom he had no difficulty in recognizing, had been burnt to the accompaniment of drunken jeers and savage howls of execration.
The innkeeper, whose many misdeeds made him loath to offend his unwelcome guest, to whom they were well known, told him that the people were searching high and low for him, and that they had now come to the conclusion that he had left the island.
"In another week or two, Gambi, when my beard has grown more, their conclusion will be justified," Dasso had remarked, and the innkeeper had been very relieved indeed to hear it.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE IMPOSTOR
The sun newly sunk behind the Yeldo Hills had stained the sky with rose and amber, and it was very peaceful in the darkening grounds of the Palace of Corbo.