"O Carlino, forgive me!" she moaned, stretching out her arms.
"Lead me to Pietro and I shall see," he replied, and took her organ--or rather Pietro's--on his strong shoulders.
Without a word, Gemma led the way out of the square, down tortuous streets into a poor part of the town. She was afraid of Carlino, and could not quite understand what he intended to do to Pietro. Probably he would kill him; and then he would be arrested and hanged. But then the money would come to her, and she would have all the vineyard to herself. Again, Carlino might forgive Pietro, and take her back. Gemma was a clever woman, and trusted to extricate herself out of all difficulties by her wiles. Still, she knew Carlino's violent temper, and she dreaded the worst. At the door of the poor house where she lived with her lover she stopped, and faced Bardi with a resolute air.
"Pietro is within," she said, hurriedly, "ill in bed; but I shan't take you to him unless you swear that you intend him no harm."
"I swear by this crucifix!" said Bardi, thinking of it as a dagger and not as a cross.
"Have you a knife on you?" demanded Gemma, still doubtful.
"No," smiled Bardi, thinking how the old Fiesole tragedy was repeating itself. "I have nothing with me but this crucifix." Then, as she still seemed dubious, he added: "You can see for yourself if you like."
Not knowing what to make of this smiling complacency, so different to his usual stern demeanor, Gemma passed her hands through his clothes to feel if he had any weapon concealed therein. Her fears were groundless. Bardi wore little clothing, and she assured herself beyond all doubt that he was unarmed; he had nothing wherewith to kill Pietro. Certainly he might strangle him with his bare hands; but that was not the Tuscan fashion of disposing of a rival. Perhaps, after all, he meant to forgive Pietro.
"You see," said Carlino, when her arms dropped, "I am unarmed; I have nothing with me save this silver crucifix. As Pietro is so ill he may like to look at it."
His look as he said this was hardly pleasant, and a glimpse of it might have put the woman on her guard; but it was lost on her, as already she had turned her back, and was climbing the crazy stairs. Bardi followed her, carrying the organ on his broad back, and holding in his two hands the silver crucifix, like some priest bearing the Host to the dying. Gemma conducted him into a bare garret on the topmost story. Here Carlino put down the organ and looked around.
In a corner near the window Pietro, wild-looking, with his unshaven beard of a week's growth, lay on a pile of straw roughly covered with some pieces of coarse sacking. He was emaciated and haggard about the face, and his skin was flushed red with the burning of the fever which consumed him. At times a dry hacking cough would echo through the bleak room, and the man would fall back on the poor bed in a paroxysm of pain. Clearly he was very ill, as Gemma had said, and not long for this world; knowledge that he was dying did not move Carlino's determination. He had come hither to slay Pietro with the crucifix, and he was bent upon executing his purpose.
"Carlino!" cried the sick man, raising himself on one elbow with a look of mingled terror and surprise. "You here?"
"Yes," said Gemma, moving towards her lover; "he has come to forgive you and to take me back."
"That is so," answered Bardi, raising the crucifix aloft. "I swear by this cross. Dear Pietro," he added, moving towards the bed, "I know you were tempted and---"
"Keep off! Keep off!" screamed Neri, shrinking back. "Liar! you have come to kill me. I see it in your eyes!"
"No, no," said Gemma, soothingly; "he has no weapon."
"None, my wife!" echoed Bardi, touching the spring of the cross---"only this dagger!" and Gemma saw the silver Christ fall on the floor, while the cross which had borne Him remained, a poniard, in the right hand of her deceived husband. With a cry of horror, she flung herself on the sick man.
"Me first! Me first!"
"No! You later!" cried Bardi, dragging her off "This for---"
"Carlino!" shrieked Neri, as the dagger flashed downward--"for the love of---"
The rest of the cry ended in a gurgle, as a stream of blood burst from his breast and stained the bedclothes.
"Murderer! Assassin!" gasped Gemma, scrambling on her hands and knees towards the door. "I shall---"
"Die!" snarled Bardi. "Die!"
When it was all over, he stood looking at the two dead bodies, and began to think of his own safety. His plan was soon made.
"I shall wound myself, and say that there was a struggle," he muttered; "that they tried to kill me, and I struck in self-defense. One little wound will be evidence enough to save my life."
He placed the dagger at his throat, and setting his teeth with stern determination, he inflicted upon himself a slight gash. Then he rent his clothes as evidence of the clutching of hands, and thrust the stained dagger into the grip of the dead woman.
"She tried to kill me because I slew Pietro in self-defense," he said, rehearsing the story to himself; "so now I--ah! Dio! What is this?"
A cold feeling, as of iced water, was creeping through his veins, a film of gray mist swam before his eyes, and in his throat, where he had inflicted that lying wound, there rose a ball which choked him. He staggered and fell on his knees and hands, striking the silver image of the Christ across the room. The walls spun round and round, his eyes grew dark, and with a sob of agony he pitched forward on to the bodies of his victims--dead.
* * *
One week later Hagar was rewarded for her searching by reading the conclusion of the tragedy of the Fiesole Crucifix. The journal explained the finding of the three dead bodies, and commented upon the deadly ingenuity of the weapon used, which was at once a dagger and a crucifix. It added that one of the men and the woman had been struck to the heart, and so had died; but mentioned that the third corpse had a slight wound only, inflicted on the neck. "Quite insufficient to cause death," said the sapient reporter; "therefore, how the other man died---his name has been ascertained to be Carlino Bardi--is a mystery."
It might have been to the Press; but Hagar was better informed. A short time previously, Bolker had confessed that when he discovered the secret of the crucifix a thin piece of paper had been wrapped round the blade of the poniard. This he had kept, not that it was of value, or that he had any reason to withhold it from his mistress, but simply out of a thievish magpie propensity which was inherent in his nature. Finding it one day in his pocket--for he had forgotten all about it---he gave it to Hagar. As it was written in Italian, and she was ignorant of the language, Hagar took it to the old bookseller, of whom mention has been made, to have it translated. This was done by a customer of his, and the following translation was handed to Hagar the next day:
"I, Guido, of Florence, have manufactured this dagger, hidden in this silver crucifix, to slay Count Louis from France and my faithless wife, Bianca, who with him has deceived me. As I may not be able to strike them to the heart, I have anointed this blade with a deadly poison, so that the slightest scratch of the poniard causes death. I write this warning and place it within the crucifix, so that he who finds it may beware of touching the point; and that he may use it upon a faithless wife, as it is my intention to do."
--Signed at Florence in Tuscany.
"GUIDO."
Hagar looked at this paper, after reading the report of the tragedy, and mused. "So," said she to herself, "Carlino killed his wife and her lover; but how did it come about that he wounded himself, and died of the poison?"
There was no answer to this question, for Hagar never learnt that Bardi had inflicted the wound on himself to save his life, hereby slaying himself as surely as the law would have done.
Chapter VI.
The Fifth Customer and the Copper Key