As Ripa’s way lay in the same direction, they naturally started together; and after what appears to have been a very silent walk—­for the spirits of Giuseppe were so depressed that the other found it impossible to draw him into conversation—­they reached Forni, when, having rung the bell, they were presently answered by Antonio Guerra, who put his head out of an upper window to inquire who they were, and what they wanted.

’It is I, Alessandro Malfi.  I want to know where your master is, and why he has not been to my house this evening as he promised?’

‘I thought he was there,’ said Antonio.  ’He set off from here to go soon after seven o’clock.’

‘That is most extraordinary!’ returned Malfi.  ’What in the world can have become of him?’

‘It is very strange, certainly,’ answered the servant.  ’He has never come home; and when you rang I thought it was he returned from the party.’

As there was no more to be learned, the two friends now parted; Malfi expressing considerable surprise and some uneasiness at the non-appearance of his brother-in-law:  whilst of Giuseppe we hear nothing more till the following afternoon, when, whilst at work in his vineyard, he was accosted by two officers of justice from Aquila, and he found himself arrested, under an accusation of having waylaid Mendez in a mountain-pass on the preceding evening, and wounded him with the design of taking his life.

The first words Ripa uttered on hearing this impeachment—­words that, like all the rest of his behaviour, told dreadfully against him—­were:  ‘Isn’t he dead, then?’

‘No thanks to you that he’s not,’ replied the officer; ’but he’s alive, and likely to recover to give evidence against his assassin.’

‘Dio!’ cried Giuseppe, ‘I wish I’d known he wasn’t dead!’

‘You confess, then, that you wounded him with the intent to kill?’

‘No,’ answered Ripa; ’I confess no such thing.  As I was going through the pass last night I observed a man’s hat lying a little off the road, and on lifting it, I saw it belonged to Senor Mendez.  Whilst I was wondering how it came there without the owner, and was looking about for him, I spied him lying behind a boulder.  At first I thought he was asleep, but on looking again, I saw he didn’t lie like a sleeping man, and I concluded he was dead.  Had it been any one but he, I should have lifted him up; but it being very well known that we were no friends, I own I was afraid to do so.  I thought it better not to meddle with him at all.  However, if he is alive, as you say, perhaps he can tell himself who wounded him.’

‘To be sure he can,’ returned the officer:  ‘he says it’s you!’

‘Perduto son’ io!—­Then I am lost!’ exclaimed Ripa; who, on being brought before the authorities, persisted in the same story; adding, that so far from seeking Mendez, he had particularly wished to avoid him, and that that was the reason he had started so late; for he had been warned that the Spaniard was his enemy, and he apprehended that if they met alone some collision might ensue.