My first instinct was to hide myself; but before I could retreat Benoni recognised me, even with my old clothes.  Perhaps they are not so much older than the others, compared with his fashionable garments.  He made no sign as the three rode by; only I could see by his eyes, that were fixed angrily upon me, that he knew me, and did not wish to show it.  As for myself I stood stock still in amazement.

I had supposed that Benoni had really gone to Austria, as he had told me he was about to do.  I had thought him ignorant of the count’s retreat, save for the hint which had so luckily led me straight to the mark.  I had imagined him to be but a chance acquaintance of the Lira family, having little or no personal interest in their doings.  Nevertheless, I had suspected him, as I have told you.  Everything pointed to a deception on his part.  He had evidently gone immediately from Rome to Fillettino.  He must be intimate with the count, or the latter would not have invited him to share a retreat seemingly intended to be kept a secret.  He also, I thought, must have some very strong reason for consenting to bury himself in the mountains in company with a father and daughter who could hardly be supposed to be on good terms with each other.

But again, why had he seemed so ready to help me and to forward Nino’s suit?  Why had he given me the smallest clue to the count’s whereabouts?  Now I am not a strong man in action, but I am a very cunning reasoner.  I remembered the man, and the outrageous opinions he had expressed, both to Nino and to me.  Then I understood my suspicions.  It would be folly to expect such a man to have any real sympathy or sense of friendship for anyone.  He had amused himself by promising to come back and go with me on my search, perhaps to make a laughing-stock of me, or even of my boy, by telling the story to the Liras afterwards.  He had entertained no idea that I would go alone, or that, if I went, I could be successful.  He had made a mistake, and was very angry; his eyes told me that.  Then I made a bold resolution.  I would see him and ask him what he intended to do; in short, why he had deceived me.

There would probably be no difficulty in the way of obtaining an interview, I was not known to the others of the party, and Benoni would scarcely refuse to receive me.  I thought he would excuse himself, with ready cynicism, and pretend to continue his offers of friendship and assistance.  I confess I regretted that I was so humbly clad, in all my old clothes; but after all, I was travelling, you know.

It was a bold resolution, I think, and I revolved the situation in my mind during two days, thinking over what I should say.  But with all my thought I only found that everything must depend on Benoni’s answer to my own question—­“Why?”