His infinitely dolorous look filled me with strange pity, but what could I do? Besides, his window was the only one that had bars to it.
"Never mind, dear boy," said kind Mr. Sandbach. "I will bear you company till the morning."
At this his convulsive struggles began again. "Oh, please, not that. Anything but that. I will promise to lie still and not to cry more than I can help, if I am left alone."
So we laid him on the bed, and drew the sheets over him, and left him sobbing bitterly, and saying: "I nearly saw everything, and now I can see nothing at all."
We informed the Miss Robinsons of all that had happened, and returned to the dining-room, where we found Signora Scafetti and Gennaro whispering together. Mr. Sandbach got pen and paper, and began writing to the English doctor at Naples. I at once drew out the note, and flung it down on the table to Gennaro.
"Here is your pay," I said sternly, for I was thinking of the Thirty Pieces of Silver.
"Thank you very much, sir," said Gennaro, and grabbed it.
He was going off, when Leyland, whose interest and indifference were always equally misplaced, asked him what Eustace had meant by saying 'he could not make out men a bit.'
"I cannot say. Signor Eustazio—" (I was glad to observe a little deference at last) "has a subtle brain. He understands many things."
"But I heard you say you understood," Leyland persisted.