He glanced at the Cancelliere, a small, pale man, with restless eyes and a pointed chin that looked like a weapon.
"Niente, niente!" said the Cancelliere, obsequiously.
He was reading Artois with intense sharpness. The Maresciallo, a broad, heavily built man, with an enormous mustache, uttered a deep "Buon giorno, Signor Barone," and stood calmly staring. He looked like a magnificent bull, with his short, strong brown neck, and low-growing hair that seemed to have been freshly crimped. Gaspare stood close to Artois, as if he felt that they were allies and must keep together. Salvatore was a few paces off.
Artois glanced at him now with a carefully concealed curiosity. Instantly the fisherman said:
"Povero signorino! Povero signorino! Mamma mia! and only two days ago we were all at the fair together! And he was so generous, Signor Barone." He moved a little nearer, but Artois saw him glance swiftly at Gaspare, like a man fearful of violence and ready to repel it. "He paid for everything. We could all keep our soldi in our pockets. And he gave Maddalena a beautiful blue dress, and he gave me a donkey. Dio mio! We have lost a benefactor. If the poor signorino had lived he would have given me a new boat. He had promised me a boat. For he would come fishing with me nearly every day. He was like a compare—"
Salvatore stopped abruptly. His eyes were again on Gaspare.
"And you say," began the Pretore, with a certain heavy pomposity, "that you did not see the signore at all yesterday?"
"No, signore. I suppose he came down after I had started for Messina."
"What did you go to Messina for?"
"Signore, I went to see my nephew, Guido, who is in the hospital. He has—"