In spite of the weather Malipieri went out, however, and did not even send for a cab.  The porter was in a particularly bad humour and eyed him distrustfully, for he had been put to the trouble of cleaning the stairs where the three men had left plentiful mud in their track during the night.  Malipieri nodded to the old man as usual, and was about to go out, but turned back and gave him five francs.  Thus mollified the porter at once made a remark about the atrocious weather and proceeded to ask how the work was progressing.

“I have explored a good deal,” answered Malipieri.  “The Senator is coming to-morrow, and you had better sweep carefully.  He looks at everything, you know.”

He went out into the pouring rain, keeping a sharp lookout from under the edge of the umbrella he held low over his head.  He had grown cautious of late.  As he expected, he came upon one of the respectable men he now met so often, before he had turned into the Piazza Agonale.  The respectable man was also carrying his umbrella low, and looking about him as he walked along at a leisurely pace.  Malipieri hailed a cab.

Even in wet weather there are no closed cabs in that part of Rome.  One is protected from the wet, more or less, by the hood and by a high leathern apron which is hooked to it inside.  The cabman, seated under a huge standing umbrella, bends over and unhooks it on one side for you to get in and out.

Malipieri employed the usual means of eluding pursuit.  He gave an address and told the man to drive fast, got out quickly on reaching the house, enquired for an imaginary person with a foreign name, who, he was of course told, did not live there, got in again and had himself driven to Sassi’s door, sure of losing his pursuer, if the detective followed him in another cab.  Then he paid the man two fares, to save time, and went in.  He had never taken the trouble to do such a thing since his political adventures, but he was now very anxious not to let it be known that he had any dealings with the former agent of the Conti family.

The matter was settled easily enough and to his satisfaction.  Old Sassi worshipped Sabina, and was already fully persuaded that whatever could be found under the palace should belong to her, as also that she had a right to see what was discovered before Volterra did, and before anything was moved.  He was at least as quixotic in his crabbed fashion as Malipieri himself; and besides, he really could not see that there was the least harm or danger in the scheme.  It certainly would have been improper for Malipieri to go and fetch the young lady himself, but it was absurd to suppose that a man over sixty could be blamed for accompanying a girl of eighteen on a visit to her old home, in her own interest, especially when the man had been all his life employed by her family in a position of trust and confidence.  Finally, Sassi hated Volterra with all his heart, as the faithful adherents of ruined gentlefolks often hate those who have profited by their ruin.