Both men now knelt by the hole, and Masin thrust his lantern down to
the full length of his arm. The light shone upon the vast hand of the
statue, and made a deep reflection in the great ruby of the ring, as
if the gem was not a stone, but a little gold cup filled with rich
wine. The hand itself, the wrist and the great muscles of the chest on
which it lay, seemed of pure gold. But Malipieri's eyes fixed
themselves on something else. There were marks on the bright surface
of the metal which had not been there when he had looked at it in the
afternoon; there were patches of dust, and there were several small
scratches, which might have been made by the nails of heavy shoes.
"You were right after all," said Malipieri, withdrawing the lantern
and setting it down beside him. "The man is here."
Masin's china-blue eyes brightened at the thought of a possible fight,
and his hold tightened again on his drill.
"What shall we do with him?" he asked, looking down into the hole.
Cunning, as the Italian peasant is by nature, Masin made a sign to his
master that the man, if he were really below, could hear all that was
said.
"Shall I go down and kill him, sir?" Masin enquired with a quiet grin
and raising his voice a little.
"I am not sure," Malipieri answered, at once entering into his man's
scheme.
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