He drew a paper from his pocket and held it before Filippo’s face. But the latter only stared at it, as if he understood nothing of the matter, and fell back again into his sleep-like stupor.
“Examine the wound, Doctor”—the Commissary now turned to the surgeon. “If his condition will allow it at all, we must carry the gentleman down without delay. I saw some horses outside there. We can accomplish two acts of the law at once if we take possession of them, for they are laden with smuggled goods. It is a lucky thing one knows what sort of people visit Treppi when one wants to know it.”
As he said this, and the surgeon approached Filippo, Fenice disappeared from the room. The old chirurgeon remained quietly sitting and mumbling to herself. Voices were heard without and an unusual disturbance of going to and fro, and at the hole in the wall faces looked in and quickly disappeared again.
“It is possible,” the surgeon now said, “for us to take him down if we bind him tight with a twofold bandage. Frankly, he would recover more rapidly if he were left here in this peaceful spot and in the care of this old witch, whose medicinal herbs put the most learned physician to shame. The fever may endanger his life on the way, and I will in no case take the responsibility, Mr. Commissary.”
“Unnecessary, unnecessary,” replied the other. “How to get rid of him does not enter into the question. So bind your rags about him, as tight as you can, so that none of them may slip, and then forward. We have the moonlight and are taking a young fellow along with us as guide. Meanwhile, go out, Molza, and secure the horses.”
The police officer whom the order concerned opened the door of the room quickly and was about to go out when an unexpected sight turned him to stone. The room adjoining was occupied by a crowd of village folk, at whose head stood two contrabbandieri. Fenice was still addressing them as the door opened. Now she stepped to the threshold of the room, and said, with sharp emphasis:
“You will leave this room instantly, gentlemen, and without the wounded man, or you will never see Pistoja again. No blood has ever yet flowed in this house as long as Fenice Cattaneo has been mistress of it, and may the Madonna prevent any such crime for all time to come. Do not try to return, either, with more men. You still bear in mind, perhaps, the spot where one has to climb up, one by one, the rock staircase. A single child can defend this pass, if he rolls down the steep the stones that lie scattered up on top as if sown there. We will place a watch there until this gentleman is in safety. Now, go and boast abroad of your heroism, how you have played a young girl false and wished to murder a wounded man.”
The faces of the officers turned paler and paler, and after the last words there followed a pause. Then, as if at a word of command, they all three drew from their pockets the pistols that had up to now been concealed, and deliberately the Commissary said: “We come in the name of the law. If you do not respect it yourself, will you still hinder others from executing it? It may cost six of you your lives if you compel us to procure the law by force.”
A murmur passed through the crowd of the others. “Be still, friends,” cried the resolute girl. “They dare not do it. They know that every man they shoot will bring a sixfold death upon the murderer. You speak like a fool,” she said, turning again to the Commissary. “The fear that sits on your brows speaks, at least, more reasonably. Do as fear advises you. The way is open, gentlemen!”
She stepped back and pointed with her left hand toward the front door of the house. Those in the room whispered a few words together, then with conciliatory bearing they walked through the excited crowd, which with ever-increasing curses made way for them. The surgeon was undecided which he should follow; but at an imperious nod from the young girl, he hastily joined his companions.