E. W. Hornung_A J Raffles 02

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so this tool of a direttore had
orders to keep me at it night and day. I undertook not to give
the poor beast away, but at the same time told him I had not the
faintest intention of doing another stroke of work that night.
    "It was very dark, and I remember knocking my head against the
oranges as I ran up the long, shallow steps which ended the
journey between the direttore's lodge and the villa itself. But
at the back of the villa was the garden I spoke about, and also
a bare chunk of the cliff where it was bored by that
subterranean stair. So I saw the stars close overhead, and the
fishermen's torches far below, the coastwise lights and the
crimson hieroglyph that spelt Vesuvius, before I plunged into
the darkness of the shaft. And that was the last time I
appreciated the unique and peaceful charm of this outlandish
spot.
    "The stair was in two long flights, with an air-hole or two at
the top of the upper one, but not another pin-prick till you
came to the iron gate at the bottom of the lower. As you may
read of an infinitely lighter place, in a finer work of fiction
than you are ever likely to write, Bunny, it was 'gloomy at
noon, dark as midnight at dusk, and black as the ninth plague of
Egypt at midnight.' I won't swear to my quotation, but I will to
those stairs. They were as black that night as the inside of
the safest safe in the strongest strong-room in the Chancery
Lane Deposit. Yet I had not got far down them with my bare feet
before I heard somebody else coming up in boots. You may
imagine what a turn that gave me! It could not be Faustina,
who went barefoot three seasons of the four, and yet there was
Faustina waiting for me down below. What a fright she must have
had! And all at once my own blood ran cold: for the man sang
like a kettle as he plodded up and up. It was, it must be, the
short-winded Count himself, whom we all supposed to be in Rome!
    "Higher he came and nearer, nearer, slowly yet hurriedly, now
stopping to cough and gasp, now taking a few steps by
elephantine assault. I should have enjoyed the situation if it
had not been for poor Faustina in the cave; as it was I was
filled with nameless fears. But I could not resist giving that
grampus Corbucci one bad moment on account. A crazy hand-rail
ran up one wall, so I carefully flattened myself against the
other, and he passed within six inches of me, puffing and
wheezing like a brass band. I let him go a few steps higher,
and then I let him have it with both lungs.
    "Buona sera, eccellenza, signori!' I roared after him. And a
scream came down in answer—such a scream! A dozen different
terrors were in it; and the wheezing had stopped, with the old
scoundrel's heart.
    "'Chi sta la?' he squeaked at last, gibbering and whimpering
like a whipped monkey, so that I could not bear to miss his
face, and got a match all ready to strike.
    "'Arturo, signori.'
    "He didn't repeat my name, nor did he damn me in heaps. He did
nothing but wheeze for a good minute, and when he spoke it was
with insinuating civility, in his best English.
    "'Come nearer, Arturo. You are in the lower regions down there.
I want to speak with you.'
    "'No, thanks. I'm in a hurry,' I said, and dropped that match
back into my pocket. He might be armed, and I was not.
    "'So you are in a 'urry!' and he wheezed amusement. 'And you
thought I was still in Rome, no doubt; and so I was until this
afternoon, when I caught train at the eleventh moment, and then
another train from Naples to Pozzuoli. I have been rowed here
now by a fisherman of Pozzuoli. I had not time to stop anywhere
in Naples, but only to drive from station to station. So I am
without Stefano, Arturo, I am without Stefano.'
    "His sly voice sounded preternaturally sly in the absolute
darkness, but even through that impenetrable veil I knew it for
a sham. I had laid hold of the hand-rail. It shook violently
in my hand; he also was holding it where he stood. And these
suppressed tremors, or rather their detection in this way,
struck a

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