THE SECRET OF THE VILLA VERDE.

The unexpected sight that met my eyes within that narrow stone passage

was truly horrifying.

An oil lamp shed a faint light at the farther end of the narrow

tunnel-like place, and revealed the body of a man lying in a heap in

such a position that I saw, in an instant, that some tragedy had

occurred.

Creeping forward I bent beside him and touched his hand. It was still

warm, yet I saw across the stones a large dark pool--a pool of blood,

and at the same moment discovered that it issued from an ugly

knife-wound just over the heart.

He was a respectably dressed man of forty, robust, heavily built, with

dark moustache and shaven chin. As I touched his hand, which lay

helpless at his side, my fingers came into contact with something hard,

and I found that strapped around his waist he carried a revolver.

Quickly I took it out, for I had no weapon myself, and at a glance saw

that it was the regulation pattern as supplied to the agents of police.

The man who had been stabbed to the heart so unerringly was probably a

detective who had been left in charge of the villa after the police had

taken possession of the place. Hearing a summons at the door he had

perhaps gone to open it, when the ready knife had struck him down, and

the desperate trio had passed over his body and entered the villa to

prosecute their mysterious object.

I listened. There was no sound. The intruders, whatever their object,

were in the main building; for it seemed that this narrow passage merely

gave entrance to the servants' quarters. The place was an enormous,

rambling one, built, as I afterwards found, by Prince Torlonia in the

days of the Borgia Pope, once full of splendour and magnificence, but

sadly neglected and degenerated in these modern days.

Again I examined the prostrate man, placing my hand upon his heart but

failing to detect any movement. He was dead without a doubt.

Noiselessly I crept forward, my ears strained to catch every sound, my

hand gripping the dead man's revolver. If I were discovered I could

now, at least, make a fight for life. The fearless way in which they

had struck down the detective was sufficient to show me that they would

hesitate at nothing.

Those were exciting moments, for at the end of the narrow stone passage

I passed through a door, and found myself in a great dark chamber which

seemed to be unfurnished. The faint grey light that struggled in

through the barred windows was sufficient to allow me to see that it

opened into a great square hall, around which was set a number of

ancient high-backed chairs of the same epoch as the house itself. The

rooms were lined with ancient tapestries falling to decay, and there was

everywhere a damp mouldy smell as though that wing of the place had long

been closed and uninhabited.

Passing along another corridor, I opened a door at the farther end and

found myself at once in the modernised portion of the place, in a

corridor where, upon the thick dark red carpet, my feet fell

noiselessly, and where a candle which the intruders had probably lit was

set upon a table.

Again I listened. I fancied I caught the sound of voices, but was not

quite certain.

For some moments I remained there, holding my breath in hesitation. To

search for them in that great place was full of danger and difficulty.

And yet, having gone so far, I was determined that I would ascertain

their object in coming there.

At last, reassuring myself that the voices I had heard were only sounds

in my imagination, I went forward again through an open door into a fine

long picture-gallery, well carpeted as was the corridor. At the end

showed another faint light, for the men had, I now saw, lit a child's

night-light which they had probably brought with them.

In that portion of the house there was evidence of wealth and luxury

everywhere. Nardini had probably spent a good deal of the public money

upon embellishing that fine old place with its wonderful sculptured

fireplaces and frescoed and gilt ceilings.

Still scarcely daring to breathe lest my presence be detected, I went

forward again, until of a sudden voices, plain and unmistakable, broke

upon my ear, causing me to halt suddenly and stand motionless as a

statue.

They were in some room in the vicinity. But where? It was quite dark

where I stood, but from a door slightly open at some distance before me

shone a thin streak of faint light, evidently from a candle.

Dare I approach and peep within?

At first I hesitated, for the risk was very great, but at last summoning

courage I moved across the thick carpet to the open door and peered in.

It was a great salon, I found, a huge, high-roofed place with old gilt

furniture upholstered in red silk brocade and some marvellous buhl

cabinets full of rare china and _bric-a-brac_. The place was in

darkness, save for the single night-light placed upon a chair--the

intruders fearing, of course, to ignite the lamps as the light would

shine outside and perhaps attract attention.

The great salon led into an inner room, and in there I saw their moving

figures by the light of two candles that had been put upon the carpet.

They were conversing only in low whispers and seemed to be groping about

the floor in the farther corner of the room, as though in search of

something.

I slipped into the big salon, and creeping from table to chair, bending

double so as to be concealed the whole time, I managed to approach near

the door of the inner room, and took up a position where I could both

observe their movements and overhear their words.

Now that I reflect upon my actions of that night, I see how utterly

reckless of life I was. A single slip, a cough, a sneeze, and I should

be lost. And yet, holding my breath, I knelt behind that big gilt

armchair wherein the princes of the _cinquecento_ had once sat, and

watched those men at their mysterious work.

The heavy red plush curtains had been drawn across the long windows, and

I recognised that the apartment was a library or study, for there were

big cases filled with old parchment-covered volumes, and set before one

of the windows was a big carved writing-table. As I watched, the doctor

lit the gas-lamp upon it, removing the green silk shade so as to give a

better light in the room, and as he did so the young man in the grey

hat, who had thrown off his coat and was on his hands and knees on the

floor, suddenly picked up something which he handed to Miller, saying in

Italian with a grin:--"This looks a little suspicious, does it not,

signore?" Miller took the object in his hand, and started. Then I saw

that it was a narrow gold bangle--a woman's bracelet. He took it to the

light, and read some words inscribed in the inside. Then he stood in

silence and wonder.

"What's the matter?" inquired Gavazzi, in broken English. "What is it?"

His friend handed it to him without a word.

But the doctor only shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and handed back the

bangle.

At that moment the truth flashed across my mind--the truth unknown to

those men. In that room--if that were Nardini's study--the mysterious

discovery had been made. The body of an unknown young Englishwoman had

been found there.

Was that bangle her property? Miller had certainly recognised the

inscription upon it, and knew its owner.

I saw that he stood there with knit brows, still glancing at the

bracelet, as though mystified.

"Come," urged Gavazzi, in the brisk businesslike way which appeared to

be natural to him. "We have no time to lose if we really intend to be

successful." And he went down upon his knees in the farther corner of

the room, carefully feeling the surface of the blue velvet-pile carpet

with his hands.

"We'd better have it up," he declared at last. "I feel sure it's

somewhere in this corner."

"Then you never actually saw it?" remarked Miller, a trifle

disappointed.

"No. But it isn't likely he would ever reveal to me where he kept his

most private secrets. We were friends, intimate friends, but Giovanni

Nardini was not the man to reveal to even his own father what he

considered was a secret. See this!" And rising he walked to the

oak-panelled wainscotting, touched a spring, and there was revealed a

small secret door leading down to a short flight of steps in the wall

somewhere into the cellars below--a secret mode of egress.

Again he went to a book-case, part of which proved false, and there on

pulling it away revealed a large iron safe let into the wall.

"You see I am aware of some of his secrets. The police think they've

searched the place, but they've never discovered either of these, that's

very certain," he laughed.

Then, with the younger man, he proceeded to tear up the carpet, showing

that the floor, unlike that in most Italian houses, was boarded and not

of mosaic.

All three moved the furniture and gradually rolled the carpet back until

they had half-uncovered the room. It was heavy, exciting work, and the

perspiration rolled from their brows in great beads.

Once the chair behind which I was concealed moved a little and the wheel

squeaked.

Miller's quick ear caught the sound.

"Hark!" he cried, starting up. "What's that?"

"A mouse," exclaimed the doctor, laughing. "I heard it. Don't worry

yourself, my dear James, we are safe enough now with that guard out of

the way."

By the aid of the candles they examined every floorboard, trying each to

see if it were movable. But they were all fast, and gave no sign of

covering any place of concealment. They seemed to be in search of some

cavity where something they believed was concealed.

With their knuckles they tapped all over the floor, but the sound

emitted was exactly the same everywhere.

For a full hour they searched until suddenly the doctor, who had been

indefatigable, while running his hand along the floor close to the oak

wainscoting quite near the writing-table, made a discovery which

instantly brought his companions upon their knees at his side.

"Look!" he cried. "See! There is a little piece of a different wood

let in here--round like a large wooden stud! I wonder what it is?" He

pressed it with his fingers, but to no avail. Therefore he took out his

pocket-knife and with the end pressed down hard, throwing all his weight

upon his hand. "It gives!" he cried excitedly. "There's some spring

behind it! You are stronger," he exclaimed, turning to the younger man.

"Try. Push down, so!"

The Mysterious Mr. Miller · 第 93 / 120 题