How
should I know what would happen?"
"You know a good many things, my friend."
Malipieri understood that the man would not say more, and led the way
out.
"Good-bye, grandpapa," growled Toto, waving his hairy hand towards the
well. "Who knows whether we shall meet again?"
They went on, and in due time emerged into the upper air. It was
raining heavily, as Toto had guessed, and before they had reached the
other end of the courtyard they were drenched. But it was a relief to
be out of doors, and Malipieri breathed the fresh air with keen
delight, as a thirsty man drinks. The rain poured down steadily and
ran in rivers along the paved gutters, and roared into the openings
that carried it off. Malipieri could not help thinking how it must be
roaring now, far down at the bottom of the old shaft, led thither
through deep-buried and long-forgotten channels.
Upstairs, Masin was inclined to be friendly with his fellow-craftsman,
and gave him dry clothes to sleep in, and bread and cheese and wine in
his own room. In spite of his experiences, Masin had never known how
to be suspicious. But as Malipieri looked once more at the man's stony
face and indistinguishable eyes, he thought differently of his
prisoner. He locked the outer door and took the key of the patent lock
with him when he went to bed at last.
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