"It looks bad, sir. I'd better keep behind."

"Oh. It isn't murder or anything of that sort. I know them, pretty
couple, they are!"

The next moment we were in a kind of sitting room over the
restaurant proper. Madame Martinetti lay as if exhausted on a sofa
while the highly excited parrot sang and screamed and tore at its
cage as if for life. Giuseppe was nowhere visible. "Now then where's
the other?" demanded the policeman who had just entered behind us,
"There's always two at this business. Show him up, now." But Madame
at first would deign no explanation. Presently on the entry of
policeman No. 2 she admitted there had been a quarrel. Yes, she had
quarrelled with her dear Giuseppe, (the officers grinned) and had
driven him away. Yes, he had gone--gone forever, he had said so,
never to come back, never, never!

"And leave this fine business to you, eh? No fear of that. I guess
Mr. Martinetti'll turn up all right in the morning, however, let us
make a search, Joe." But Giuseppe was not found; there were no
traces of a struggle, and the policemen having done all they could
retired. My friend and I, by what right I know not were the last to
leave the room. De Kock stood for some moments looking out of the
window. I approached the parrot who was still screaming.

"If throwing a cloth over your head would stop you, I'd do it, my
dear," said I. To my surprise, it ceased its noise directly, and
became perfectly quiet. Madame Martinetti looked around with a
contemptuous smile.