I have sent him to the station to find out whether
Corbario really left or not. You don't think he will succeed? I tell you
there are few detectives to be compared with one of those fellows when
they are on the track of a man they hate. I told him to come here, no
matter how late it might be, since he is your man. I suppose he can get
in?"
"Of course. There is a night-bell for the porter. Ercole knows that.
Besides, the porter will not go to bed as long as you are here. While we
are waiting for him, tell me what Ercole has found out."
They sat down again, and Kalmon told Marcello the sailor's story of what
his captain had seen from the deck of the brigantine. Marcello listened
gravely.
"I remember that there was a small vessel very far in," he said. "Aurora
will remember it, too, for she watched it and spoke of it. We thought it
must run aground on the bar, it was so very near."
"Yes. She remembers it, too. The evidence is complete."
There was silence again. Marcello threw another log upon the fire, and
they waited. Kalmon smoked thoughtfully, but Marcello leaned back in his
chair, covering his eyes with one hand. The pain had not begun to be
dulled yet, and he could only sit still and bear it.
At last the door opened, and a servant said that Ercole was waiting, and
had been ordered to come, no matter how late it was. A moment later he
appeared, and for once without his dog.
He stood before the door as it closed behind him waiting to be told to
come forward.
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