Fabio intended to wait till she awakened, and then to set off to Ferrara,
when suddenly some one tapped lightly at the bedroom door. Fabio went out,
and saw his old steward, Antonio. ‘Signor,’ began the old man, ‘the Malay
has just informed me that Signor Muzzio has been taken ill, and wishes to
be moved with all his belongings to the town; and that he begs you to let
him have servants to assist in packing his things; and that at dinner-time
you would send pack-horses, and saddle-horses, and a few attendants for the
journey. Do you allow it?’
‘The Malay informed you of this?’ asked Fabio. ‘In what manner? Why, he is
dumb.’
‘Here, signor, is the paper on which he wrote all this in our language, and
very correctly.’
‘And Muzzio, you say, is ill?’ ‘Yes, he is very ill, and can see no one.’
‘Have they sent for a doctor?’ ‘No. The Malay forbade it.’ ‘And was it the
Malay wrote you this?’ ‘Yes, it was he.’ Fabio did not speak for a moment.
‘Well, then, arrange it all,’ he said at last. Antonio withdrew.
Fabio looked after his servant in bewilderment. ‘Then, he is not dead?’ he
thought ... and he did not know whether to rejoice or to be sorry. ‘Ill?’
But a few hours ago it was a corpse he had looked upon!
Fabio returned to Valeria. She waked up and raised her head. The husband
and wife exchanged a long look full of significance. ‘He is gone?’ Valeria
said suddenly. Fabio shuddered. ‘How gone? Do you mean ...’ ‘Is he gone
away?’ she continued. A load fell from Fabio’s heart. ‘Not yet; but he is
going to-day.’ ‘And I shall never, never see him again?’ ‘Never.’ ‘And
these dreams will not come again?’ ‘No.’ Valeria again heaved a sigh of
relief; a blissful smile once more appeared on her lips. She held out both
hands to her husband. ‘And we will never speak of him, never, do you hear,
my dear one? And I will not leave my room till he is gone. And do you now
send me my maids ... but stay: take away that thing!’ she pointed to the
pearl necklace, lying on a little bedside table, the necklace given her by
Muzzio, ‘and throw it at once into our deepest well. Embrace me. I am your
Valeria; and do not come in to me till ... he has gone.’ Fabio took the
necklace--the pearls he fancied looked tarnished--and did as his wife
had directed. Then he fell to wandering about the garden, looking from
a distance at the pavilion, about which the bustle of preparations for
departure was beginning. Servants were bringing out boxes, loading the
horses ... but the Malay was not among them. An irresistible impulse drew
Fabio to look once more upon what was taking place in the pavilion. He
recollected that there was at the back a secret door, by which he could
reach the inner room where Muzzio had been lying in the morning. He stole
round to this door, found it unlocked, and, parting the folds of a heavy
curtain, turned a faltering glance upon the room within.