"My father seriously ill," thought Gilbert. "How he has suffered! If the worst happens, it will have been Silwood who has killed him! And the office! How long can it go on in my father's absence without something being discovered and a catastrophe precipitated? What a terrible situation! What am I to do?" he asked himself, greatly agitated. But a little reflection convinced him that it was his duty to proceed to Camajore. Still, his brother's message chilled and depressed his spirits.
It was towards the middle of the afternoon when Gilbert and Signor Vinci walked up the single street of Camajore to the residence of Ucelli.
The Syndic saw the Deputy-Minister with surprise, but was far from guessing the real cause of his appearance.
"It is about the effects of that poor Signor Silwood you have come," he said to Signor Vinci in Italian, "along with Signor Eversleigh, is it not?"
"The effects," said Vinci, diplomatically; "yes. Let me see them."
The Syndic produced the money and the various articles which had belonged to Silwood.
"I will give you a receipt for them," said the Deputy, "and take them with me to Rome. They will eventually be given to the person or persons who can show the best claim to them."
"That is quite correct," agreed the Syndic, obsequiously. "Will your Excellency take them now?"
"Yes."
The Deputy-Minister, the look of determination on his face which it habitually wore suddenly becoming sharply accentuated, snapped out the "Yes" so harshly that Ucelli could not help noticing it; there was that in it which made him quake. He glanced at the Deputy to see if he could interpret the swift change in his manner.