On tiptoe they crept along the terrace.

"He will have left the door open for us," whispered Gaspare. "He has the
revolver beside him and will not have been afraid."

But when they stood before the steps the door was shut. Gaspare tried it
gently. It was locked.

"Phew!" he whistled. "We cannot get in, for we cannot wake him."

Lucrezia shivered. Sorrow had made her feel cold.

"Mamma mia!" she began.

But Gaspare's sharp eyes had spied the key lying on the window-sill. He
darted to it and picked it up. Then he stared at the locked door and at
Lucrezia.

"But where is the padrone?" he said. "Oh, I know! He locked the door on
the inside and then put the key out of the window. But why is the bedroom
window shut? He always sleeps with it open!"

Quickly he thrust the key into the lock, opened the door, and entered the
dark sitting-room. Holding up a warning hand to keep Lucrezia quiet, he
tiptoed to the bedroom door, opened it without noise, and disappeared,
leaving Lucrezia outside. After a minute or two he came back.

"It is all right. He is sleeping. Go to bed."

Lucrezia turned to go.

"And never mind getting up early to make the padrone's coffee," Gaspare
added. "I will do it. I am not sleepy. I shall take the gun and go out
after the birds."