handle of the closed
door, looking the man straight in the face.

"Who is ill?" asked the detective.

"A little girl."

"Well, what harm do you suppose we shall do her?"

"Pardon me," said Luisa almost defiantly, and giving the handle a
nervous shake, "must you all go in?"

"All of us."

At the sound of voices and the rattling of the door-handle little Maria
had begun to cry in a weary and forlorn voice that was heart-rending.

"Luisa," said Franco, "let these _gentlemen_ do their work."

The detective was a fashionably-dressed young man, with a refined but
cruel face. He threw Franco a sinister glance. "Obey your husband,
Signora," said he, glad of an opportunity to retaliate. "I think he is
prudent."

"Less prudent than you are, who bring a whole army as escort," Luisa
retorted, opening the door. He glanced at her, shrugged his shoulders,
and passed in, followed by the others.

"Open everything here," said he roughly, in a loud voice, pointing to
the writing-desk. Franco's big, blue eyes flashed. "Speak softly!" said
he. "Do not frighten my child."

"Silence, you!" the detective thundered, bringing his fist down upon the
desk. "Open!"

At that noise the child began to sob violently. Franco, who was furious,
flung the key upon the desk.

"Open it yourself," said he.

"You are under arrest!" cried the detective.

"Very well."

While Franco was answering thus, Luisa, who had bent low over her baby,
trying to pacify her, raised her face impetuously.

"I also have a right to that honour," said she, in her fine, ringing
voice.

The detective did not deign to reply, but ordered a gendarme to open all
the drawers of the writing-desk, and he himself searched them, removing
all the letters, examining them rapidly, throwing some on the floor,
and tossing others into the great leathern bag. After the writing-desk
it was the turn of the chests of drawers, where everything was turned
upside down. Then Maria's little bed was inspected. The detective
ordered Luisa to remove the child from the big bed, which he also
intended to examine.

"Then put the little bed in order for me," Luisa replied, quivering with
rage. Up to this moment, the mastiff, Carlascia, had stood silent and
stiff behind his moustaches, as if this operation, which he had perhaps
desired in the abstract, were proving not entirely to his taste, now
that it was being put into practice. He came forward and began arranging
the mattresses and s