“Bene, signore,” he answered. “I forgot to say that the signor console called at four o’clock.”
“And what did the consul want?” I inquired.
“He wishes to see you tomorrow to luncheon,” was the old fellow’s response. “And, oh! I forgot—another man called to see the signore only a quarter of an hour before his return—the gobbo; Graniani.”
“Graniani!” I echoed. “And what did he want, pray?”
“To sell you some more old rubbish, I suppose,” was Nello’s blunt reply, for he always looked upon my purchase of antiques as a terrible waste of good money. “He said he would return later.”
I was very surprised at this. He had probably returned to Leghorn by an earlier train from Florence; but why he wished to see me after secretly spying upon my movements I was at a loss to know. One must, however, be clever to comprehend the ingenuity of the Italian, with all his diplomatic smiles and ingenious subtleties.
“If he comes I will see him,” I responded; adding, “Do you know, Nello, I don’t like that man.”
“Ah, signore!” answered the old fellow, “you should never trust a hunchback.”
“But when I asked you about him you knew nothing to his detriment. I look to you to make inquiries about such people.”
“At the time I was in ignorance, signore,” he said apologetically; “but I have learned several things since.”