day; the innkeeper therefore decided in
favour of truth, and he told the tale of Stradella's arrest, and of the
mysterious disappearance of the other three members of the party. The
two Bravi listened in silent surprise, glancing at each other from time
to time, as if to note some point of importance.

'Something must be done at once!' cried Trombin, when the landlord had
told all. 'This is an egregious miscarriage of the law! Something must
be done at once!'

'Something must be done at once!' echoed Gambardella very emphatically,
though in a much lower tone. 'Are you quite sure that you do not know
where the lady went, Master Landlord? Or have you only forgotten?'

He had fixed his evil black eyes on the innkeeper's face, and there was
something in his look and tone that suddenly scared the stout Romagnole,
who was no great hero after all; he backed against the door as if he
expected Gambardella to spring at him.

'Indeed, Signor Count,' he cried in a rather shaky voice, 'if it were my
last word, I know nothing more of the lady and her woman! They left the
house immediately, but I do not know whether they turned to the right or
the left from my door, for I did not see them go out.'

'Have you made any inquiries in the town?' asked Gambardella in the same
tone as before. 'No? Then you had better set about it at once. Do you
understand? That young lady is the niece of a friend of ours, who is a
Venetian Senator, and if any harm comes to her through your having
allowed her to leave your house unprotected, you may be held
responsible. I fancy that the Legate here must be anxious to oblige the
Republic in such matters!'

This was no doubt arrant nonsense, but nothing seemed laughable when
Gambardella assumed that tone.

'Something must be done at once!' cried Trombin, and turning suddenly to
the landlord he opened his round blue eyes as wide as possible, and drew
his breath sharply in through his pursed lips with a soft sound of
whistling.

He looked like a colossal angry cat, and was at least as terrifying as
Gambardella. The landlord faltered as he replied to both the Bravi at
once.

'Certainly, my lords, certainly--I will have inquiries made--I will do
my best--it was really not my fault----'

'It may not have been your intention, but it was, in a measure, your
fault,' answered Trombin, allowing his expression to relax, 'though it
may have been only a fault of omission, and therefore venial, which is
to say