'Why does Messer Carlo not come home himself and get the money he needs?' he asked.
By this time Omobono had recovered from his fright enough to creep into the room behind Tocktamish. He was already making anxious gestures to the two Venetian gentlemen to enjoin caution. The Tartar drank again before he answered the question.
'He happened to be so busy that he preferred to send me to get the money for him,' said the soldier. 'You see we are old friends. We fought together in Greece.'
Then Omobono's voice was heard, quavering with anxiety.
'There is no money in the house!' he cried, winking violently at Polo and Cornèr. 'There is not a penny, I swear! There were large payments to make yesterday.'
The poor little secretary was so anxious to be heard that he had come within arm's length of the Tartar, though behind him. Tocktamish turned his big head, and put out his hand unexpectedly, and Omobono felt himself caught and whirled round like a child till he was close to the table and face to face with the tipsy giant. He was sure that he felt his liver shrivelling up inside him with sheer fright.
'What is this little animal?' the Tartar asked, cocking one eye in a knowing way and examining him with a sort of boozy gravity.
But Omobono really could not find a word. His captor shook him playfully.
'What is your name, you funny little beast?' he enquired, and he roared with laughter by way of answering himself.
Giustina, strange to say, was the only one to join in his mirth, and she laughed quite prettily, to the inexpressible surprise of her parents, who were shocked and grieved, as well as scared almost to death.