“Oh, yes! I shall be back long before then.”
Half an hour after the appointed time he returned, and found Gemma and Martini sitting on the terrace together. He saw at once that their conversation had been a distressing one; the traces of agitation were visible in both of them, and Martini was unusually silent and glum.
“Have you arranged everything?” she asked, looking up.
“Yes; and I have brought you some money for the journey. The horse will be ready for me at the Ponte Rosso barrier at one in the night.”
“Is not that rather late? You ought to get into San Lorenzo before the people are up in the morning.”
“So I shall; it's a very fast horse; and I don't want to leave here when there's a chance of anyone noticing me. I shan't go home any more; there's a spy watching at the door, and he thinks me in.”
“How did you get out without his seeing you?”
“Out of the kitchen window into the back garden and over the neighbour's orchard wall; that's what makes me so late; I had to dodge him. I left the owner of the horse to sit in the study all the evening with the lamp lighted. When the spy sees the light in the window and a shadow on the blind he will be quite satisfied that I am writing at home this evening.”
“Then you will stay here till it is time to go to the barrier?”
“Yes; I don't want to be seen in the street any more to-night. Have a cigar, Martini? I know Signora Bolla doesn't mind smoke.”