‘Yes,’ lisped the Count. ‘It is. The dam supplies all my needs. All my water and electricity. I am reliant on no one.’

‘And the aqueduct?’ said Victor.

‘To bring me water, of course,’ said Ugo. ‘I will explain. My dam is built between two mountains, across a wide gorge. My palazzo is built into the side of one mountain, my machinery into the other. Water comes down from the dam through the turbines and then across the gorge on the aqueduct to my palazzo.’

‘And why could you not just bring the water straight down from the dam on your side? In pipes,’ said Victor, frowning quizzically.

‘Where would be the glory in that?’ scoffed Ugo. ‘My aqueduct is a monument you can see for miles. You have the mind of an engineer, Signor Delacroix. I am an engineer as well, but I am also a soldier, a poet and a dreamer. I have a vision, Victor.’

‘That is clear,’ said Victor, and James detected a mocking hint in his tone that luckily Count Ugo didn’t register.

‘Ah, James,’ said Victor, noticing James for the first time. ‘Count Ugo has graciously invited us all to his palazzo for a grand carnival.’

‘The building work has only just been completed,’ said Ugo, ‘after many years. You will be among my first visitors. This carnival will announce to the world that Count Ugo Carnifex has arrived –’

Ugo suddenly stopped and put a hand to his mouth, staring at something on the floor.

‘Are you all right, Count?’ said Victor, anxiously.

Ugo shook his head quickly and James looked down. On the marble floor was a small damp, sandy footprint that he had left behind when he first came in.

‘I am sorry,’ said Ugo, ‘but I cannot stand mess or dirt of any kind. This island is filthy. The people are filthy. Up in the mountains I can get away from them. I can at least try to keep my own house clean. Dirt is a sin.’

Victor quickly signalled to Mauro who reluctantly knelt down and wiped the offending sand away with a cloth. Ugo watched him with an expression of extreme distaste.

‘Would you care to stay for dinner?’ said Victor, trying to lighten the mood. ‘It is late and you have a long journey back.’

‘That is most kind of you,’ said Ugo. ‘My sister and I would be delighted, Signor Delacroix.

James was sick of the sound of Ugo’s voice. The man couldn’t stop talking, and he had only one subject – himself. All through dinner he had bored everyone with his views on philosophy and religion and politics, and how the local people were lazy and untrustworthy.

Now he had got on to the subject of money, or to be more precise, his own great wealth.

‘Silver,’ he was saying, as Victor nodded politely. ‘It was silver that paid for everything. Inside the mountain, beneath my palazzo, is my silver mine. I had other mines on the island before – lead and zinc and coal – but they were not profitable. I sold them all and went to the Gennargentu. I had a hunch.’ He tapped his nose. ‘I can smell silver. Everyone said that I was mad. But I didn’t listen. I tunnelled into the mountain with explosives. No silver. I tunnelled deeper. Still no silver . . . but then one day – silver! I proved them wrong.’