“So it seemed to me when I was there.  I think it must have been the same place.  But when I did not find her, I could not feel sure of it.  Every spot in the Pineta is so like all other spots.  One pine-tree is just like another; and the grassy openings, and the little thickets of underwood, are all the same over and over again.  I felt that I could not be sure that the place was the same.”

“Was there no fallen tree, no track of road, no specialty of weed or flower, that the spot might be identified by?”

“None I think—­none that I am aware of or can remember.  There was a little rising of the ground,—­a sort of bank, and the grass was sprinkled all over with wild flowers.  There were violets close at hand, I know, because I remember the scent of them!  But when I came to try, it seem’d to me that I found all these things in a dozen other places.”

“Nevertheless, you know at what point you entered the Pineta; it cannot be very difficult to have the whole wood, within such a distance as it is at all likely that she should have strayed to, thoroughly searched.  But the best men for the purpose would be some of the foresters in the employ of the farmers of the forest.  I dare say that we might find—­what is that coming along the road yonder?” said the lawyer interrupting himself.

The two gentlemen had been standing during the above short conversation just on the outside of the gate, and looking down the stretch of long straight road towards St. Apollinare and the pine forest.

“It is a knot of men coming along the road.  They are likely enough some of the very fellows we want.  In that case we might get them to go back with us without loss of time.”

“With us?” said the lawyer, who had not bargained when he left his home, for any such expedition.  “Well, I don’t mind helping you, Signor Marchese, in your search,” he added, after a moment’s consideration; “but I am not going to walk to the Pineta this afternoon; and I should think you must have had enough of it for to-day.  But I will tell you what I can do.  We will send one of these fellows to my house to order my servant to come here with my calessino as quick as he can; and if these men are the people we want—­What are they doing?  They are carrying something!  Why surely—­ Signor Marchese!” said the old lawyer, looking into his companion’s face, while a strange expression of understanding, mixed with a blank look of dismay and alarm, stole over his own features.

“What is it?—­What have they got?—­Why, heavens and earth! it is—­ Signor Fortini, is it not a dead body they are carrying?  My God!”

The young man griped his companion’s arm hard, as he spoke, and the action enabled the lawyer to remark that he was shaking all over.

In another minute the men whom they had seen coming along the road were close to the gate.  They were six in number; and they were bearing—­somewhat, between them.  They advanced beneath the covered gateway, and there, as it is necessary to do in the case of everything brought into the town, they set their burthen down on the flag-stones, at the feet of the officers of the gate, and of the Marchese and the lawyer.