Oria rather
than from Casarico or Albogasio, that he might have the pleasure of
greeting the Receiver.
The big, faithful mastiff did not at once understand that the Commissary
had a second end in view, and poured forth his thanks in a medley of
obsequious phrases, and short, silly laughs, rubbing his hands and
offering coffee, milk, eggs, and the open air of the little garden. The
other accepted the coffee, but declined the open air with a motion of
his head and a wink so eloquent, that Carlascia, after shouting
upstairs, "Peppina!" ushered him into the office where, feeling himself
transformed (such was his double nature) from a receiver of customs into
a police-officer, he composed himself, and put on an expression of
austerity, as if about to enter into a sacramental union with the
monarch himself. This office was a miserable hole on the ground floor,
with iron gratings at the two small windows; an infectious and primitive
cell, that already stunk of the great empire. The Commissary seated
himself in the middle of the room, looking at the closed door that led
from the landing-stage to the ante-room, the one leading from the
ante-room to the office having been left open by his orders.
"Tell me something of Signor Maironi," said he.
"He is still watched," Bianconi answered, and continued in the Italian
of Porta Tosa. "By the way--wait a moment--I have a report here that is
nearly finished." And he began hunting and fumbling among his papers, in
search of the report and of his glasses.
"You will send it in, you will send it in!" exclaimed the Commissary,
who had a dread of the big mastiff's prose.
"Meanwhile speak. Tell me everything."
"He is as ill-intentioned as ever. We knew before he was
ill-intentioned, but now it is very evident," the eloquent Receiver
continued. "He has begun to wear that beard--you know--that midget--that
_moschetta_--that pointed tuft, that filthy----"[I]
"Pardon me," said the Commissary, "you see I am new to the place. I have
my instructions and I have received some information, but as yet I have
no exact knowledge of the man and his family. You must describe them to
me as minutely as you can. Let us begin with him."
"He is a proud man, violent and overbearing. He has quarrelled here at
least fifty times over questions of duty. He will never give in, and he
wants to teach me and the guard also. His eyes flash as if he were going
to eat the custom-house. But it is no use being
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