It was probably in the garden now, but it would
take a strong man a day or two to dig up all the earth there to the
depth at which the book must have been buried. Zorzi must have done the
work at night, after the furnaces were out, and when there were no night
boys to watch him. But then, the boys had been feeding the fires in the
laboratory until the previous night, and it followed that he must have
bailed the box this very evening.
Giovanni got the slab back into its place without injuring it, and he
rubbed the edges with dust, and swept the place with a broom, as Zorzi
had done twice already. Then he took the lamp and set it on the table
before the window. The light fell on the gold piece that lay there. He
took it, examined it carefully, and slipped it into his wallet with a
sort of mechanical chuckle. He glanced at the furnace next, and
recollected that the precious pieces Zorzi had made were in the
annealing oven. But that did not matter, for the fires would now go out
and the whole furnace would slowly cool, so that the annealing would be
very perfect. No one but he could enter the laboratory, now that Zorzi
was gone, and he could take the pieces to his own house at his leisure.
They were substantial proofs of Zorzi's wickedness in breaking the laws
of Venice, however, and it would perhaps be wiser to leave them where
they were, until the Governor should take cognizance of their existence.
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