Then he proceeded with his task; getting, in a roundabout, cunning, shrewd way, at a pretty fair version of what
had occurred. And he was exceedingly circumspect. He endeavored, by all sorts of circumlocutions, to hide from Brand the real drift of his inquiry. He would betray suspicion of no one. His manner was calm, patient, almost indifferent. All this time Brand's thoughts were far away. He was speaking to Calabressa, but he was thinking of Naples.
But when they came to Brand's brief description of what took place in Lisle Street on the night of the casting of the lot, Calabressa became greatly excited, though he strove to appear perfectly calm.
"You are sure," he said, quickly, "that was precisely what happened?"
"As far as I know," said Brand, carelessly. "But why go into it? If I do not complain, why should any one else?"
"Did I say that any one complained?" observed the astute Calabressa.
"Then why should any one wish to interfere? I am satisfied. You do not mean to say, Calabressa, that any one over there thinks that I am anxious to back out of what I have undertaken—that I am going down on my knees and begging to be let off? Well, at all events, Natalie does not think that," he added, as if it did not matter much what any other thought.
Calabressa was silent; but his eyes were eager and bright, and he was quickly tapping the palm of his left hand with the forefinger of the right. Then he regarded Brand with a sharp, inquisitive look. Then he jumped to his feet.
"Good-night, my friend," he said, hurriedly.
But Brand rose also, and sought to detain him.