This was done, and in twenty-four hours Gigi was safely lodged in a cell by himself, with orders that he was on no account to be allowed any communication with other prisoners.

Then Volterra went to see him, and instead of threatening him, offered him his help if he would only tell the exact truth.  Gigi was frightened out of his wits and grasped at the straw, though he did not trust the Baron much.  He told what he had done; but with the loyalty to friends, stimulated by the fear of vengeance, which belongs to the Roman working man, he flatly denied that he had an accomplice.  Yes, he had spoken in the letter of two men who would be walking on the Via Appia, and he had intended to take his brother-in-law with him, but he said that he had not meant to explain why he took him until the last minute.  It was a matter for the galleys!  Did his Excellency the Senator suppose that he would trust anybody with that, until it was necessary?

The consequence was that Gigi was kept quietly in prison for a few days before any further steps were taken, having been arrested at the instance of the Ministry of Justice for trying to extract blackmail from the Conti family, and being undoubtedly guilty of the misdeed.  Volterra’s name did not even appear in the statement.

Malipieri had not Volterra’s influence, and intended to try more personal methods with the carpenter; but when he appeared at the palace in the afternoon, and asked the porter to go and call Gigi, the old man shook his head and said that Gigi had been in prison three days, and that nobody knew why he had been arrested.  The matter had not even been mentioned by the Messaggero.

Malipieri had never connected Toto with Gigi, and did not even know that the two men were acquainted with each other.  He had not the slightest doubt but that it was Toto who had caused the water to rise in the well, out of revenge, but he knew that it would now be impossible to prove it.  Strange to say, Malipieri bore him no grudge, for he knew the people well, and after all, he himself had acted in a high-handed way.  Nevertheless, he asked the porter if the man were anywhere in the neighbourhood.

But Toto had not been seen for some time.  He had not even been to the wine shop, and was probably at work in some distant part of Rome.  Perhaps he was celebrating his grandfather’s funeral with his friends.  Nobody could tell where he might be.

Malipieri went back to his hotel disconsolately.  That evening he read in the Italie that after poor Sassi had been buried, the authorities had at once proceeded to take charge of his property and effects, because the old woman-servant had declared that he had no near relations in the world; and the notary who had served the Conti family had at once produced Sassi’s will.

He had left all his little property, valued roughly at over a hundred thousand francs, to Donna Sabina Conti.  Had any one known it, the date of the will was that of the day on which he had received her little note thanking him for burying her canary, out on Monte Mario.