His knowledge of the Turkish language was now of the greatest service to him; for, possessing but a very few words of Arabic, this was the only medium by which he could make known the colour of his thoughts either to his mistress or her mother. His passion, however, supplied him with eloquence, and by dint of vehement protestations, in this instance the offspring of genuine affection, he at length succeeded in his enterprise, and Maani became his wife. But in the midst of these transactions, when it most imported him to remain at Bagdad, an event occurred in his own house which not only exposed him to the risk of being driven with disgrace from the city, but extremely endangered his life and that of all those who were connected with him. His secretary and valet having for some time entertained a grudge against each other, the former, one day seizing the khanjar, or dagger, of Pietro, stabbed his adversary to the heart, and the poor fellow dropped down dead in the arms of his master. The murderer fled. What course to pursue under such circumstances it was difficult to determine. Should the event come to the knowledge of the pasha, both master and servants might, perhaps, be thought equally guilty, and be impaled alive; or, if matters were not pushed to such extremities, it might at least be pretended that the deceased was the real owner of whatever property they possessed, in order to confiscate the whole for the benefit of the state. As neither of these results was desirable, the safest course appeared to be to prevent, if possible, the knowledge of the tragedy from transpiring; a task of some difficulty, as all the domestics of the household were acquainted with what had passed. The only individual with whom Pietro could safely consult upon this occasion (for he was unwilling to disclose so horrible a transaction to Maani’s relations) was a Maltese renegade, a man of some consideration in the city; and for him, therefore, he immediately despatched a messenger. This man, when he had heard what had happened, was of opinion that the body should be interred in a corner of the house; but Pietro, who had no desire that so bloody a memorial of the Italian temperament should remain in his immediate neighbourhood, and moreover considered it unsafe, thought it would be much better at the bottom of the Tigris. The Maltese, most fortunately, possessed a house and garden on the edge of the river, and thither the body, packed up carefully in a chest, was quickly conveyed, though there was much difficulty in preventing the blood from oozing out, and betraying to its bearers the nature of their burden. When it was dark the chest was put on board a boat, and, dropping down the river, the renegade and two of his soldiers cautiously lowered it into the water; and thus no material proof of the murder remained. The assassin, who had taken refuge at the house of the Maltese, was enabled to return to Italy; and the event, strange to say, was kept secret,