A Creature of the Night: An Italian EnigmaHume, Fergus
Philosophy
A Creature of the Night: An Italian Enigma
Hume, Fergus
British -- Italy -- Fiction; Mystery fiction
She was gone before I could utter further remonstrance, and during her
absence I reflected rapidly. It was true that Guiseppe was dead, that
I believed his body was concealed somewhere in that room, so perhaps
after all it was best that Bianca should come, as her quick woman's
wit might succeed where I had failed. She knew nothing about the
implication of the Contessa Morone in the affair, the palazzo would be
quite deserted during the daytime, so I would be able to take her
there, let her examine the room, and if by chance the truth was
revealed that Guiseppe was dead, it would be a more merciful way than
by the lips of a stranger. Yes, I would take her there at once. If we
failed in our mission she would be no wiser than before, but if we
succeeded--ah! how I pitied the poor child if we succeeded in finding
out the terrible secret of the Contessa. At this moment she returned
trembling with ill-suppressed excitement.
"Well, Signor Hugo, are you ready--are you willing to help me?"
"With all my heart, Signorina."
"Ebbene! come, then."
She ran lightly out of the room, and I followed with a heavy heart,
for I had a presentiment of evil. I feared that fatal chamber, which
held so many impure memories--I feared the discovery of the dead--I
feared for this child who went forward in ignorance to face such
horrors.
CHAPTER X.
A VOICE IN THE DARKNESS.
On returning from my last visit to the palace I had carefully noted
the way thereto, so I was able to escort Signorina Angello without
calling in the services of Peppino. I was unwilling to drive there, as
the presence of a fiacre even in that deserted piazza might be
noticed, and I did not want any comment made by the scandal-loving
Italian populace on our visit to this out-of-the-way locality. So in
company with Bianca, who had put on a veil, and who said nothing to me
from the time we left Casa Angello, being apparently occupied with her
own reflections, I walked down the gloomy, narrow streets towards that
terrible Palazzo Morone, the very idea of which inspired me with
horror and dismay.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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