dismiss Jovenina from the house? Carmelina was worth two of Jovenina, anyway. When I counselled caution, Adelaide again alluded to me as a vivisectionist; likewise, after her usual custom when she calls me names, she kissed my "bald spot." But she agreed, at last, to let things take their course, for a time, at least. Soon after this, our minds were diverted unpleasantly, from Carmelina's love affair. Lembo, the commissionaire who brings one everything from Naples, came with another instalment of our money from the bank. Next day, when Adelaide went to the trunk, a considerable sum was missing. Twenty-three dollars may not seem much to you, but it is one hundred and fifteen lira over here, and that's a lot of money. I consulted an Italian gentleman who befriends Americans in Capri. He advised me to say nothing of the loss, but to mark some notes and leave them in the trunk as bait, looking every day to see if they had disappeared. When finally they went, I was to hurry at once to the Maresciallono, it is not at all like maraschino-hurry, at once, I say, to the Maresciallo, who is the local head of the carabinieri, and place the matter in his hands. I did not expect further pilfering until the next money came from Naples, but two days later six of the marked five-lira notes took wing. Adelaide discovered the loss while I was at the Torre Quattro Venti having tea. She hastened to send word, so that I might get the carabinieri quickly, before the thief disposed of the marked notes. In the gathering dusk I found my way to the headquarters of this band of military police. It was not an easy place to find, for it was tucked away in one of the narrow jointed little alleys which empty into the Via del Castello, beneath the arches of old Santa Teresa. At last I rapped upon the massive door with a monumental knocker that sent the echoes flying. Presently I heard footsteps inside; then an iron-latticed peep-hole opened cautiously, and someone asked me what my errand was. My answer seemed satisfactory. After an unbarring and unlocking that made me think what Capri must have been in medieval days, when Saracen pirates occasionally called, I was admitted. A shadowy carabiniere showed me through dark rooms and up a stairway, to the Maresciallo's office. While I sat and waited, a lamp was brought. On The room was absolutely bare of furniture excepting for a rickety desk, three wobbly chairs, and a set of shelves marked with the impressive word "archivio." the wall was a board with hooks, such as one sees in the offices of rustic hostelries at home, but the keys which hung upon these hooks were huge and ancient weaponskeys I imagined knights producing at their castle doors on coming home from the crusades. Besides some printed notices, the only adornment of the chamber was a target, marked upon the whitewashed wall, suggesting that when not engaged with his "archivio" the Maresciallo practised marksmanship, from his desk chair. A carabiniere knocked at a door beside the target, while several others watched, as though a revelation were expected. It flew open, and the Maresciallo's head appeared, as Punch's head pops out between curtains in the pulcinella. I am sure that this is the only occasion on which the Maresciallo has been seen by human eyes looking anything but grand. He was not in his gorgeous uniform, but was dressed like a soldier in a battle painting. His fatigue coat was half unbuttoned, showing the gray shirt underneath, and his cap was like those worn by Italian workmen who have recently completed their military service. They told the Maresciallo that I wished to see him. He entered the room and seated himself at his desk. I stood before him, and carabinieri ranged themselves about. Even the wobbly desk seemed to try to straighten up in the great man's presence. In the unpleasantness of my errand I had quite forgotten Luigi. Now, suddenly, I caught sight of him, and it dawned upon me, horridly, that in speaking of the theft, I cast suspicion upon both girls toward whom his flashing eye had glanced with favor. The awkwardness of the situation staggered me, and I rejoiced that, though we were known to one another, I had not the honor of actual acquaintance with him. I wondered which of the others might be Mariano, but above all I speculated as to how Luigi would accept the news I brought. Would he chase me about the island with his sword and slay me, or would he only scorn me for a "pazzo" foreigner. The Maresciallo fixed me with a shiny eye as in lame Italian I told my tale. Did I suspect anyone? I hastened to aver that I did not. They seemed so, but one of them had surely robbed us. Ah, but which one? I depended upon the Maresciallo, with his superior facilities, to discover that. I was uneasy as we talked, for Luigi stood behind me. Should I hear his sword as it came from its scabbard or would my first notice be the prick of its sharp point between my shoulder-blades? The Maresciallo moralized. Had I only lost jewelry the case would be more simple, but money-ah, money was hard indeed to trace! Again I pointed out that the last bills stolen had been marked. But how could I prove the marks? In the Maresciallo's presence I now marked a note as I had marked the others. But suppose the servants said the mark was theirs? I had two witnesses. Ah, that was well. Now was I certain that I had no direct suspicion? Indeed I was. Then how was he, the Maresciallo, to know where to begin? That was beyond me. I had hoped that he might hasten to the villa and try to ferret out the thief ere the marked money had changed hands. This sort of conversation proceeded for an hour-a very valuable hour, I felt, for each minute wasted rendered slighter our chances of success. I grew impatient, heartily wishing myself in police headquarters in New York. At last the Maresciallo said that he would come up in the morning to investigate. When I pointed out that the marked bills would almost certainly have vanished by that time, he winked a knowing eye and advised me to leave the case with him. Dissatisfied, I started home. Fortunately, however, I had not gone far when I met the Italian friend who had advised the marked-note trap. I told him of the failure of my efforts with the Maresciallo, and he insisted upon returning with me to the stronghold of the carabinieri. When, for the second time, I reached the Maresciallo's office, I noticed a change in the manner of that dignitary. You see my friend was one of Capri's "city fathers." What a great thing is influence! Everything that my Italian friend explained threw new light upon the subject of the theft. Within five minutes activities commenced. The Maresciallo would accompany me at once to the villa, where he would sift the matter to the bottom. It was an outrage that foreigners should be robbed! It would give Capri a bad name! He disappeared behind the doors whence I had seen him emerge at first, and stayed there half an hour. But ah, the transformation when he reappeared! Now he was the real Maresciallo-the being I had seen in the piazza; him whom the Capriotes held in awe, and called "the Brigand." Have you ever been escorted home by three policemen? If so, you know how people turn and look, and wonder what you've done. My progress through the piazza and past Morgano's and the stores was most conspicuous. Even the darkness did not shield me, for the swords of my three attendants clanked constantly, and our eight feet, keeping step, sounded hideously loud in the narrow stone-paved streets, attracting much attention. So great was my embarrassment I did not notice for a time that the Maresciallo had picked Luigi as one of his assistants, and even when I did discover it, I cared but little, so far gone I was with shame at being thus brought home. Never had the flight of steps that leads up to our villa seemed so long. The nasty business must be gone through with, but I wished to have it over soon. It is not hard to decide to have an aching tooth removed, but the journey to the dentist preys upon one's nerves. The Maresciallo told me not to ring, but to admit him directly to the kitchen. So we entered the garden gate and I rapped loudly on the kitchen door. I had the feeling of a Judas as I heard Archangelo's footsteps coming blithely. Then the door was opened, and our proficient chef discovered me standing in the garden with my army. All care and sorrow left me at sight of the ludicrous, dismayed expression of that face. I should have laughed aloud but for my fear of Luigi and the Maresciallo. we entered. As the Maresciallo explained his errand, I tried to detect some sign of perturbation in one or the other of them. Archangelo was nervous and full of protestations; Carmelina was plainly astonished beyond measure; Jovenina assumed an air of nonchalant ennui; Teresina's black eyes popped out. Until I saw him talking with the servants I had not realized the powers of the Maresciallo, and the aptness of his soubriquet, "the Brigand." His mustaches were long and inky black, his features were large and good, and his deep-set eyes seemed to pierce the things they looked at and come through upon the other side. I have seldom seen a man of more impressive manner. He was self-contained, keen, and commanding, and his expressions of face and voice had surprising range and force. I became fascinated in observation of his methods. There was a seeming deep significance to every word he uttered, as though one more question would bring forth the money, show us who the culprit was, and settle the entire matter. He had a way of throwing back his head, looking at his victim through half-closed eyes, and speaking very slowly. This seemed to drive the servants wild; there would at once begin arm-waving and expostulation that reminded me of panicky days on the New York Stock Exchange. He would change suddenly from this cold deliberate style to one of fire and rapidity. His head shot forward, his eyes blazed, and his question snapped out sharp as the click of a steel trap. His gestures, too, were marvellous. He would pop his hand quite suddenly before his face, peering at Archangelo between the outstretched fingers, his pantomime irresistibly suggesting a prisoner looking from behind the bars. If the answers to his questions did not suit him he raised his eyebrows and his shoulders, giving a look of derisive contempt which was beyond description. Perhaps the finest accomplishment of this many-sided "Brigand" was his sinister laugh. He used it to denote the full extreme of scorn and disbelief, and it rang out cold and blood-curdling as the mirthless laughter of Mephisto. Throughout his questioning I was All the servants were in the kitchen when pleased to observe the calm demeanor of our Carmelina. She looked the Maresciallo in the eye and answered him with a directness that was disarming. Archangelo was the first to fall into the "Brigand's" toils, for, on examination, it developed that he had been to several of the shops that afternoon and had paid bills amounting to about two hundred lira. They were our household bills, he said. Now, it is a Capri custom to pay daily, and I knew well that Adelaide was scrupulous upon this point. Archangelo admitted that he accounted to her every morning, and that before he went to market she always gave him money to pay for what he bought. Why, then, had he not done so? He became confused. It was bothersome he said. Instead of paying day by day, he put the money in the post-office-which, in Italy, is a sort of bank as well-and left it there until considerable accounts accumulated, when he drew it out and settled them as he had done this very afternoon. The Maresciallo's irony was biting. Ah, so Archangelo was not the chef for the signore, but the keeper of the privy purse? The signore, not feeling competent to manage his own funds, gave them to Archangelo so they might be safe? Perhaps Archangelo bought tickets in the government lottery? Yes? And had he seen fit to invest some of the signore's money in the lottery as well? Suddenly the "Brigand" pointed his long finger at the end of Archangelo's nose, and tossing his head back gave vent to his frost-bitten "Ha, ha!" When our chef expostulated wildly he was met with the imitation of the face behind the prison bars. This fell like a blight upon Archangelo. He then received a lecture and a warning on the subject of other people's money that I was sure he would heed. At this point Carmelina proposed that all be searched. I was glad that the suggestion came from her, for I had liked her manner throughout this trying time. Not once had she looked at Luigi; not that her eyes had been cast down in embarrassment, but rather that they had looked past him and about him, and even through him. Of the two I was sure that Luigi was the more uneasy. The other servants could not well object, so the search began at once with our fallen Archangelo. No marked money was dis VOL. XL.-28 covered, but as the Maresciallo had suggested, there were tickets in the lottery, and alas! he had cigars and cigarettes of the brands I used. These he stoutly averred he bought, but the fact that they were of kinds not to be had on Capri seemed to disprove his statement. Besides, my initials were on the cigarettes. Now a woman who had been sent for arrived to superintend the searching of the other three. Carmelina asked that Adelaide be present during the ceremonies, and Adelaide, when urged, reluctantly consented. The five entered one of the bedrooms and for most of what happened there I must depend on Adelaide's account as given me later. Jovenina waved the other two aside with the manner of a queen. She must be searched first. After the removal of her waist, she produced from somewhere a handkerchief, which she placed upon the dresser, saying nonchalantly, "A little tea." I may mention here that Adelaide's opinion of Jovenina's assumed indifference was identical with mine. Of all the servants we were least sure of her. Next came Teresina. In a dirty pocket with bits of string and other things were several lumps of sugar. Teresina hastened to explain that she had bought them. But with them was a box of safety-matches bearing a number marked in ink. I had recently begun numbering the boxes in the hope of keeping better track of them, so Teresina laid it on the table with a sickly grin that owned her guilt. Next came Carmelina's turn. There had been some reserve in the disrobing of the others. Not so with Carmelina. Before they knew it, she had-as Adelaide put it— "popped out of her clothes," and stood there, well-let us say a forest nymph in bronze. Nothing was found on Carmelina with the exception of her pretty figure, and I was standing outside in the hall with the three carabinieri when that was found. I know because I heard the exclamations. "O Carmelina, What a pretty thing you are!" cried Adelaide, and the woman who had come to search remained to pray, for I heard her laugh, and exclaim, “O Mamma mia! Yes, yes, yes!" Luigi was there beside me, so I suppose he heard it, too. |