"And tall, I suppose? Yes. And she was here a quarter of an hour
ago, you say? Speak out!" he cried, advancing a step towards the
old creature. "If you lie to me, I will kill you! She was here--do
not deny it."
"Yes--yes," answered the woman, cowering back in some terror. "Per
carita! Don't murder me--I tell you the truth."
With a sudden movement Giovanni turned on his heel and entered
Gouache's sitting-room. It was now almost dark in the house and he
struck a match and lighted a candle that stood on the stable. The
glare illuminated his swarthy features and fiery eyes, and the
veins stood out on his forehead and temples like strained and
twisted cords. He looked about him in every direction, examining
the table, strewn with papers and books, the floor, the furniture,
expecting every moment to find something which should prove that
Corona had been there. Seeing nothing, he entered the bedroom
beyond. It was a small chamber and he had scarcely passed through
the door when he found himself before the toilet-table. The note
San Giacinto had left was there pinned upon the little cushion
with the gold pin, as he had placed it.
Giovanni stared wildly at the thing for several seconds and his
face grew deadly white. There was no evidence lacking now, for the
pin was Corona's own.
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