gone,
but he had not confided the reason even to Nino, who was told most
things. He had, moreover, been tolerably sure that nothing short of
thumb-screws would extract any information from Paoluccio or his wife,
for he knew his own people. The only thing that surprised him was that
the boy should ever have left the inn alive after being robbed of
everything he had about him that was worth taking.

Moreover, since Marcello had been found, and was alive and well, it was
of very little use to try and discover exactly what had happened to him
after he had been last seen by the shore. But the aspect of things had
changed since Ercole had heard the sailor's story, and his wish to see
the place where the boy had been hidden so long overcame any repugnance
he felt to visiting a neighbourhood which had unpleasant associations
with his younger years.

He sat and waited at the door, and before the sun rose a young woman
came round the house with the big key and opened the place, just as
Regina had done in old days. She looked at Ercole, and he looked at her,
and neither said anything as she went about her work, sprinkling the
floor with water and then sweeping it, and noisily pulling the heavy
benches about. When this operation was finished, Ercole rose and went
in, and sat down at the end of a table. He took some bread and cheese
from his canvas bag and began to eat, using his clasp-knife.

"If you wish wine," said the woman, "you will have to wait till the
master comes down."

Ercole only answered by raising his head and throwing out his chin,
which means "no" in gesture language. He threw pieces of the bread and
the rind of the cheese to his dog. Nino caught each fragment in the air
with a snap that would have lamed a horse for a month. The woman glanced
nervously at the animal, each time she heard his jagged teeth close.

Paoluccio appeared in due time, without coat or waistcoat, and with his
sleeves rolled up above the elbows, as if he had been washing. If he
had, the operation had succeeded very imperfectly. He glanced at Ercole
as he passed in.

"Good-morning," he said, for he made it a point to be polite to
customers, even when they brought their own food.

"Good-morning," answered Ercole, looking at him curiously.

Possibly there was something unusual in the tone of Ercole's voice, for
Nino suddenly sat up beside his master's knee, forgetting all about the
bread, and watched Paoluccio too, as if he expected somet