Part 31 (1/2)

”You two stand here at the bottom with one lamp, and Sir William and I will go up with the other,” said Peter. ”Keep your eye on Ercole, Barly, and if he so much as _moves_, come right up and join us.”

”Wait an instant,” said the Englishman. ”Stay here with Mr. Senter, Gertrude.” Making a detour so as not to rouse the gondolier, he entered the antiquity-dealer's show-room and tried to open the outer door. But it was locked, and the key was not there. ”No use,” he said, coming hurriedly back; ”I had hoped to get help from outside to watch him while we go up. Now remember, Gertrude, you and Miss Senter are to come up and join us _instantly_ if he leaves his place.” And then he and Peter ascended the winding steps, carrying one of the lamps. Round and round went the gleam of their light, and the two ladies at the bottom, standing with their skirts caught up ready to run, watched the still form of the gondolier in the distance, visible in the gleam of the candle burning in the show-room. It seemed an hour. But a full minute had not gone when Peter's voice above cried out:

”It's Giorgio! Good G.o.d! Killed! Bring up the other light.”

And the two ladies rushed up together. There on the landing lay the poor old cook, his eyes closed, his face ghastly, his white jacket deeply stained with blood. Miss Senter, who was really attached to the old man, began to cry.

”He isn't quite dead,” said Peter, who had been listening for the heart.

”But we must get him out of this icy place. Then we'll tie up Ercoly--we can use that rope--and after he is secured, I can go for help. Here, you take his head and shoulders, Sir William; you are the strongest. And I'll take his body. Barly can take the feet.”

”It will be difficult,” said the Englishman. ”These steep stairs--”

But Peter, when roused, was a veritable little lion. ”Come on,” he said; ”we can do it.”

”Please go down first and see if Ercole is still quiet,” begged Miss Senter of Lady Kay. And the Englishwoman, who now had both lamps, went down and came back in thirty seconds; she never knew how she did it. ”He has not stirred,” she said. And then old Giorgio was borne down, and out to the brilliantly lighted court beyond.

”Now,” said Peter, whose face was bathed with great drops of perspiration, ”we'll first secure him,” and he indicated Ercole by pointing his thumb backward over his shoulder towards the water-story, ”and then I'll go for a doctor and the police.”

But as he spoke, coming out of the door upon his hands and knees, appeared Z. Pelham, who, as soon as he saw the cook's prostrate body, called back, hoa.r.s.ely, in Italian: ”Ercole, get my brandy-flask.”

”Oh, don't call him!” said Lady Kay, in terror, clapping a fold of her skirt tightly over the dealer's mouth and holding it there. ”He is mad--quite mad!”

Mr. Pelham collapsed.

”Good heavens! Gertrude, don't suffocate the poor creature a second time,” said Sir William, pulling his wife away.

Z. Pelham, released, raised his head. ”Ercole has been bad beat, and that makes him not genteel,” he explained. ”Ercole, bring my brandy-flask,” he called again, in Italian, and the effort he made to break through his hoa.r.s.eness brought out the words in a sudden wild yell. ”My voice a little deranged is,” he added, apologetically, in English.

They could now hear the steps of the gondolier within, and the ladies moved to a distance as he appeared, walking unsteadily, the flask in his hand. ”Not dead?” he said, trying to see Giorgio. But his eyes closed convulsively, and as soon as the dealer had taken the flask, down he went, or half fell, on the pavement as before, with his head thrown forward over his knees. Sir William placed himself promptly by his side, while Peter ran within to get the rope. Z. Pelham, uncorking the flask, poured a little brandy between Giorgio's pale lips. ”You have all mistake,” he said to Sir William as he did this. ”Ercole was bad beat by a third partee who has done it all--me and he and this died cook; a third partee was done it all.” And he chafed the cook's temples with brandy.

”A third party?” said Peter, who had returned with the rope. ”Who?”

”I know not; they knocked me from behind. It was lightning to me, in _my_ head also,” answered Z. Pelham, going on with his chafing.

”Come here, Barly,” said Peter, taking command. ”Say what I tell you.

Don't be afraid; Sir William and I will grab him if he stirs. Say, 'Ercoly, who hurt you?'”

”Ercole, who hurt you?” said Miss Senter, tremulously.

”_Non so. Un demonio_,” answered the gondolier, his head still on his knees.

”He says he doesn't know. A demon,” said Lady Kay.

”Ask when it happened.”

”It was after he had taken the presents from the tree,” translated Lady Kay again. ”He was struck, dragged down the back stairs, gagged, and left in the antiquity-room. He has only just now been able to free himself.”

”How could he act the clown, then?” pursued Peter.

”He says he hasn't been a clown or seen a clown. Oh, Peter, it was some one else disguised! Who could it have been?” cried Miss Senter, running away as if to fly up the staircase, and then in her terror running back again.