"Yes, I suppose so," said the Marchese, slipping the bottle containing the antidote into his pocket; "though he certainly does not deserve to have another chance of existence. But as it is inconvenient keeping him in my house, I suppose I must send him away on his legs. Ecco! But come along, Hugo. We have what we desire, and I care not for this abode of death."
We went up the stairs and out of the iron door, where we found Matteo still keeping guard. It was quite a relief to get out of the fetid atmosphere of the tomb into the cool, fresh air again, and I felt like a released prisoner who was free for the first time after many years. The Marchese, however, man of iron as he was, did not seem to be affected in any way, but wrapping his cloak round him, prepared to go.
"Can you close that door again, Matteo?"
"Eccellenza! it is done!"
"Bene! Let us go!"
In fact the moment we emerged, Matteo, knowing our task was concluded, had reclosed the door by some trick known to himself; so we all three climbed over the broken wall, and took our way to the Ponte Aleardi.
"And when are you going to give Pallanza the antidote?" I asked, as we walked along arm-in-arm.
"Eh! Signor Hugo, to-morrow!"
"Why not to-night?"
"Ma foi! I am tired. A few hours will not make much difference; besides, I want a doctor to be present. The antidote will revive the poor devil, but he will be so weak after going without food all these days that the doctor will have to take charge of him."