y not," he answered. "The Signor Giovanni is very busy, and has
given strict orders that he is not to be disturbed on any account."

"That is your affair," said the gondolier, hurrying away.

CHAPTER XIX

A little more than an hour later, the gondola came back and stopped
alongside the steps of the house. The gondolier had made such haste to
obey the summons that he had not thought of going into the house to give
the servants warning, and as most of the shutters were already drawn
together against the heat, no one had been looking out when he went
away. He had asked Pasquale to tell the young master, and that was all
that could be expected of him. There was therefore great surprise in the
household when Angelo Beroviero went up the steps of his house, and his
own astonishment that no one should be there to receive him was almost
as great. The gondolier explained, and told him what Pasquale had said.

It was enough to rouse the old man's suspicions at once. He had left
Zorzi in charge of the laboratory, enjoining upon him not to encourage
Giovanni to go there; but now Giovanni was shut up there, presumably
with Zorzi, and had given orders that he was not to be disturbed. The
gondolier had not dared to say anything about the Dalmatian's arrest,
and Beroviero was quite ignorant of all that had happened. He was not a
man who hesitated when his suspicions or his temper were at work, and
now he turned, without even entering his home, and crossed the bridge
to the glass-house. Pasquale was looking through the grating and saw him
coming, and was ready to receive him at the open door. For the third
time on that morning, he grinned from ear to ear. Beroviero was pleased
by the silent welcome of his old and trusted servant.

"You seem glad to see me again," he said, laying his hand kindly on the
old porter's arm as he passed in.

"Others will be glad, too," was the answer.

As he went down the corridor Beroviero heard the sound of spades
striking into the earth and shovelling it away. The gardener and his lad
had been at work nearly two hours, and had turned up most of the earth
in the little flower-beds to a depth of two or three feet during that
time, while Giovanni sat motionless under the plane-tree, watching every
movement of their spades. He rose nervously when he heard footsteps in
the corridor, for he did not wish any one to find him seated there,
apparently watching a most commonplace operation with profound