The machinist stared at the governor in blank amazement, without replying, thinking, with some reason, that Master Georgio had gone mad. But as Master Georgio insisted, as Master Georgio was wealthy, and as Master Georgio had the wherewithal to pay for insane freaks, if he chose to indulge in them, the machinist set about the task, and a week later brought him a pair of magnificent wings, fitted to an iron waist to be worn upon the body, and worked by means of an extremely ingenious arrangement of springs, with most encouraging regularity. Master Georgio paid his man the stipulated price, measured the space required to accommodate the apparatus, went up to Benvenuto's cell, and without a word overturned everything therein, looking under the bed, peering up the chimney, fumbling in the mattress, and leaving not the smallest corner unvisited. Then he went out, still without speaking, convinced that, unless Benvenuto was a sorcerer, no pair of wings similar to his own could be hidden in his cell. It was clear that the unhappy governor's brain was becoming more and more disordered. Upon descending to his own quarters, Master Georgio found the machinist waiting for him; he had returned to call his attention to the fact that there was an iron ring at the end of each wing, intended to support the legs of a man flying in a horizontal position. The machinist had no sooner left him than Master Georgio locked himself in, donned the iron waist, unfolded his wings, hung up his legs, and, lying flat upon his stomach, made his first attempt at flying. But, try as he would, he could not succeed in rising above the floor. After two or three trials, always with the same result, he sent for the mechanic once more. "Master," said he, "I have tried your wings, but they won't work." "How did you try them?" Master Georgio described his repeated experiments in detail. The mechanic listened with a sober face, and said, when he had concluded:-- "I am not surprised; as you lay on the floor, you hadn't a sufficient quantity of air under your wings. You must go to the top of the castle of San Angelo, and boldly launch yourself into space." "And you think that in that way I can fly?" "I am sure of it." "If you are so sure of it, would it not be as well to make the experiment yourself?" "The wings are proportioned to the weight of your body and not of mine," replied the machinist. "Wings to carry my weight would need to measure a foot and a half more from tip to tip." And with that he bowed and took his leave. "The devil!" exclaimed Master Georgio. Throughout that day Master Georgio indulged in various vagaries, which tended to prove that his reason, like Roland's, was penetrating farther and farther into imaginary realms. In the evening, just at bedtime, he summoned all the servants, all the jailers, all the guards.