ould discover a trace at once. Towards
dawn one is always sure of meeting people. This time they had been able
to avoid being seen, but a second time they might be less fortunate, and
a meeting might prove as fatal to Pedraglio and the lawyer as this one
would probably prove to Franco. "If you could only disguise yourselves
as peasants!" said the priest. A happy thought struck the lawyer, who
had something both of the poet and the artist, and who was well
acquainted with Puttini. He would take _Scior Zacomo's_ clothes for
Pedraglio, who was also short, and the big, fat servant's clothes for
himself; stuff their own things into a _gerla_,[Q] fasten it upon his
back, and start for Boglia. The "first political deputy" of Albogasio
might have a hundred reasons for visiting the forest belonging to the
commune. No sooner said than done! They proceeded upstairs, and the
prefect, who was familiar with the house, went straight to call
Marianna. She did not answer, and her room was empty. The prefect
guessed at once that the unfaithful servant had gone to S. Mamette for
some secret business transaction, like that of the oil. That was why
they had found the door open. They went to the kitchen and lighted two
candles. The lawyer took one and the prefect pointed out _Scior
Zacomo's_ room to him. Meanwhile Pedraglio explored the kitchen by
the light of the other candle, in search of "something wet, something to
brace him up."

_Scior Zacomo_ slept in a corner room beyond the hall which the lawyer
crossed on tiptoe, picking his way between piles of chestnuts, walnuts,
filberts, and pears. He approached the door--it was closed. He
listened--silence. Very slowly he turned the handle and pushed. The
beastly door squeaked--he heard a formidable snort, and _Scior Zacomo_
cried out angrily: "Go away! Let me alone! Go away!" The lawyer entered
without further parley. "Away with you, you accursed woman! Go away, I
tell you!" cried _Scior Zacomo_, the point of his white night-cap rising
out of the pillows. On catching sight of the lawyer he began to groan:
"Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! Oh, dear me! For pity's sake, forgive me! I
thought it was my servant. Most distinguished Advocate, for the love of
Heaven, tell me what has happened."

"Nothing, nothing, _Scior Zacomo_!" said the lawyer. "Only the
Commissary of Porlezza is here----"

"Oh, good Lord!" and _Scior Zacomo_ started to stick his legs out of
bed.

"It is nothing, nothing! Be calm, be cal