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more about the mysterious coffin, I rested my candle in an empty niche and carefully laid the chain and ship pendant beside it.
    I stepped closer to the coffin and applied both hands to a fractured corner, pushing and yanking to tear it open. After a loud crack and splinter, a leather pouch fell out. I picked it up and weighed it in my hand. When I unlaced it, I discovered it was full of gold coins. Excited, I seized a large pointed stone and began to thrust it repeatedly against the casket. I toiled hard and long, but finally managed to smash it open.
    Stunned, I stared at the contents. No decomposing body met my gaze. No discolored or putrefying bones or skull mocked me with empty eye-sockets. Instead, I looked upon a treasure worthy of a king’s ransom. Items of immeasurable wealth filled the casket. I counted fifty large leather pouches crammed with gold and silver coins. Others brimmed with priceless jewels - necklaces, crowns, bracelets, brooches, and other articles of masculine and feminine adornment. Some contained loose precious stones including diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and opals all of unusual size and lustre, uncut and ready for a goldsmith to set.
    Beneath the bags lay bolts of silk, velvet, and cloth of gold, each one carefully wrapped in oilskin and perfumed with camphor and other spices, all of unsurpassed quality and in a faultless state.
    Among the cloths lay two gold serving trays with four matching goblets, all magnificently engraved and ornamented. I also discovered other riches such as small ivory statues, a belt of gold coins linked together, a delicately painted fan with a handle set in rubies and sapphires, an impressive steel stiletto in a jewelled leather sheath, and a silver mirror framed with amethysts. At the very bottom of the chest lay more leather purses filled with soldi and denari likely amounting to millions and millions of scudos - an amount far surpassing the revenues I had inherited from my father. I plunged my hands deep into the leather bags, fingering the riches, letting them fall through my fingers in a golden cascade. Amazement and wonder conflicted with my confusion. Where could such a treasure have come from? Many of the items appeared ancient, perhaps even Roman antiquities. I knew it well, for I had collected such treasures for several years.
    My heart leapt with excitement. I let out a giddy, nervous laugh. Then it struck me. The treasure was mine. I had found it in my family crypt and had the right to claim it. But who had placed it there without my knowledge? The answer came easily. I now understood the meaning of the painted black stiletto on the lid of the coffin. It was the mark of a violent and notorious brigand named Cesare Negri who with his misguided band of thieves, ruthlessly haunted Vicenza and its surrounding areas. He was wanted by the authorities for theft and murder. People feared him. The cut-throat’s cunning impressed me. He had calculated well, thinking no one would disturb the dead, much less break open a coffin. But all his shrewd planning had failed. I had found it. A dead woman returning to life deserved something for her trouble. Despite the fact this was an ill-gotten hoard, I would be foolish not to claim to it. After all, I was the sole owner of the vault. Besides, I deserved the treasure more than a villain like Cesare Negri, for I would find some honorable use for it.
    I pondered the situation for a few moments. If this treasure were indeed the spoils of the formidable Negri, how had it come to be here? Likely four sturdy scoundrels had carried the coffin here in a bogus funeral procession for a non-existent companion. Yet the question remained, how had they gained access to my ancestral vault? Did they possess a duplicate key?
    All at once, a gust of air blew out my candle. I found myself in darkness once more. I had my tinderbox, and could light it again, but the gust of wind must have come from an opening somewhere. I looked round and noticed