"There, there!" he cried, pointing. "It is in that corner. Quickly!"
"It would be like the clever scoundrel to have copied what he wanted and
then to have put the book back into the hiding-place," said Giovanni,
pausing.
"Do not waste words, my son!" cried Beroviero in the greatest anxiety.
"Here! This is the stone. Get the crowbar in at this side. So. Now we
will both heave. There! Wedge the stone up with that bit of wood. That
will do. Now let us both get our hands under it, and lift it up."
It was done, while he was speaking. A moment later Giovanni had scooped
out the loose earth, and Beroviero was staring down into the empty hole,
just as Giovanni had done on the previous night. Giovanni was almost
consoled for his own disappointment when he saw his father's face.
"It is certainly gone," he said. "You did not bury it deeper, did you?
The soil is hard below."
"No, no! It is gone!" answered the old man in a dull voice. "Zorzi has
got it."
"You see," said Giovanni mercilessly, "when I saw the red and white
glass which he had made himself I was so sure of the truth that I acted
quickly. I saw him arrested, and I do not think he could have had
anything like a book with him, for he was in his doublet and hose. And
as he is safe in prison now, he can be made to tell where he has put the
thing.
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