The landlord lifted himself sleepily from the bench in the wine-room, but lay down again when he saw that it was a girl from Treppi that disturbed his rest.
“What do you want?” he addressed her sharply. “If you want something to eat or some wine, go into the kitchen.”
“Are you the landlord?” she asked quietly.
“Who else but me? You know me, I should think—Baldassare Tizzi of the Fortuna. What have you got for me, my pretty daughter?”
“A message from Signor Filippo Mannini, the lawyer.”
“Eh, eh, that’s it, is it? That’s something different, to be sure,” and he got up quickly. “Didn’t he come himself, child? There are some gentlemen over there waiting for him.”
“Then bring me to them.”
“Ei, ei, the sphinx! Can’t a man know what he has to say to the gentlemen?”
“No.”
“There, there, very good, child, very good. Every one has his own secret, this pretty stubborn-head as well as the tough skull of old Baldassare. Eh, eh, so he is not coming; that will be very displeasing to the gentlemen; they appear to have important business with him.” He became silent and looked at the girl sidewise. But as she gave no sign of taking him into her confidence, but opened the door, he put on his straw hat and went out with her, shaking his head.