Number 28 sat at the far edge of the village. Night had fallen during their drive, and the darkness gave everything an eerie, theatrical quality. The carriage stopped. The footman jumped down and opened the door.
"Well?" the Count said. "You're not getting out, Mr. Bertuccio? Planning to stay in the carriage? What are you thinking about?"
Bertuccio sprang out and offered his shoulder to the Count, who leaned on it as he descended the three carriage steps.
"Knock," the Count commanded, "and announce me."
Bertuccio knocked. The door opened, and a caretaker appeared.
"Yes?" the man asked.
"Your new master, my friend," the footman said, handing over the notary's authorization.
"The house is sold, then?" the caretaker asked. "And this gentleman is moving in?"
"Yes, my friend," the Count replied. "And I'll do my best to ensure you don't regret your old master."
