and bring word if
the coast (as he said) was clear. He went very cautiously, by way of
a cellar leading under our house and the next, and opening on a back
street--this, that his steps might not be traced to the front door;
and it was well that he went, for on the quay, hiding behind a stack
of timber, he saw two men in uniform posted at the head of the
water-stairs. So he hastened back, using less caution, because by
this time the snow had smoothed over his tracks, and was falling
faster every moment. The actors had already begun to pack, and
Messer' Fazio was running about in a twitter, albeit he declared
that, beside themselves, not a soul in Genoa knew of his having
lodged these Corsicans. Doubtless, however, his house would be
searched in the morning, and the important, the pressing need was to
get rid of us.

"In his haste he could think of nothing better than an old
onion-loft, some sixty paces up the lane at the back. It was a store
merely, not connected with any house, but owned by a rich merchant of
the city who had acquired it for some debt and straightway forgotten
all about it--at least, so Messer' Fazio declared. If we were
discovered in hiding there, it could be explained that we had found
it, and used it for a lodging, asking no man's leave; and suspicion
would fall on no good citizen.

"I made sure that you were dying, and for myself I was past caring;
so I thanked him and told him to do with us as he thought best.
He and Messer' Badcock carried you out then, and I followed.
The building was of two floors, with a door to each. A flight of
steps led from the lane to the upper door, which was padlocked; and
no one had used that way for twenty years, or so the landlord said.
We entered by the lower door, which was broken--both hasp and hinge--
and led straight from the lane into a dirty cellar, worse than any
cowshed and paved with mud. But from this a ladder rested against
the wooden ceiling, and just above it was a plank that had worked
loose. Messer' Fazio slipped the plank aside, and with great pains
we carried you up through the opening and into the loft. I had
bandaged your head so that we left no traces of blood in the lane or
on the floor below. Then Messer' Fazio gathered up some onions which
were strewn on the floor--I believe he had been drying them there on
the sly--and took leave of us in a hurry. When he reached the bottom
again, he carried away the ladder, declaring that it be