“A trick, and a stupid trick,” persisted her husband.

“Not at all a trick, Doctor,” said Martina, shaking her head.

“Did you see it yourself, Martina?”

“No; but I saw those who did with their own two blessed eyes.”

“The Padrona is quite right,” said Beppo, without leaving his basket.  “I, for one, saw it.”

This assertion produced such a hubbub as sent the Doctor growling from the room, and left Signora Martina at liberty to comply with the general petition for the story.

“It was twenty-five years last Easter since Hans Reuter came to San Cipriano with Carlo Boschi, the son of old Pietro, of our town.  Carlo had gone away three years before to seek his fortune.  He went to Switzerland, it seems, a distant country beyond the mountains, where the language is different from ours, and where it is said”—­(here Martina lowered her voice)—­“the people do not follow our holy religion, and are called, therefore, Protestants and heretics.  They are industrious, notwithstanding, and clever in certain arts and manufactures, and it was from some of them that Carlo learned the watchmaking trade.  After staying away three years, one fine day he came back, bringing with him one of these Swiss, Hans Reuter; and the two, being great friends, set up a shop together, where they made and sold watches and jewelry.  There was not business enough in San Cipriano to maintain them, but they made it out by selling at wholesale in the neighboring towns.

“For years all went smoothly with the partners, and their good luck began to be wondered at, when one morning their shop was not open at the usual hour.  What was the matter? what had happened? there was Carlo Boschi knocking and shouting to Hans, and all in vain.  I must tell you that Carlo lived elsewhere, and Hans had the care of the premises at night, sleeping in a little room at the back of the shop.  The neighbors went out and advised Carlo to force the door.  Very well.  When they got in, they found Hans bound hand and foot, and so closely gagged that he was almost stifled.  As soon as he could speak, he said that just after he had shut up the previous evening, there was a knock at the door.  He had scarcely opened it, when he was seized by two ruffians with blackened faces, who threw him down, gagged and tied him, and then coolly proceeded to ransack every place, packed up every bit of jewelry, every watch, and every piece of money, and then decamped with their booty, locking the door on the outside.  The robbery took place on the third and last day of the Easter Fair, exactly when there was the greatest noise and bustle from the breaking up of booths, such an uproar of singing, brawling, and rolling of carts, and such a stream of people going in every direction, as made it easy for the thieves to escape detection.  The police took a great many depositions, and made a great fuss; but there the matter ended.