From a small dingy window above the light fell upon an object lying upon a large slab of gray stone and covered with a soiled sheet.
The sight was ghastly and gruesome; the body lay there awaiting the official inquiry into the cause of death.

The silence of the tomb was unbroken, save for the heavy tread of the policeman, who having removed his helmet in the presence of the dead, lifted the end of the sheet, revealing to me a white, hard-set face, with closed eyes and dropped jaw.
I started back as my eyes fell upon the dead countenance.

I was entirely unprepared for such a revelation.

The truth staggered me.
The victim was the man who had acted as my friend--the Italian waiter, Olinto.
I advanced and peered into the thin inanimate features, scarce able to realize the actual fact.

But my eyes had not deceived me.