Unfortunately for his logic, the continuity of his deductions was blocked by a consideration which he had not anticipated.  That consideration could only be described as fear for the future, and it had been forcibly thrust upon him by the fright he had received while he was examining the hole in the floor.  In order to neutralise it, Marzio had tried the experiment of braving what he considered to be a momentary terror by obstinately studying the details of the plan he intended to execute.  To his surprise he found that he returned to the same conclusion as before.  He came back to that unaccountable fear of the future as surely as a body thrown upwards falls again to the earth.  He went over it all in his mind again, twice, three times, twenty times.  As often as he reached the stage at which he imagined Paolo dead, hidden, and buried in a cellar, the same shiver passed through him as he glanced involuntarily behind him.  Why?  What power could a dead body possibly exercise over a living man in the full possession of his senses?

Here was something which Marzio could not understand, but of which he was made aware by his own feelings.  The difficulty only increased in magnitude as he faced it, considered it, and tried to view it from all its horrible aspects.  But he could not overcome it.  He might laugh at the existence of the soul and jest about the future state after death; he could not escape from the future in this life if he did the deed he contemplated.  He should see the dead man’s face by day and night as long as he lived.

This forced conclusion was in logical accordance with his original nature and developed character, for it was the result of that economical, cautious disposition which foresees the consequences of action and guides itself accordingly.  Even in the moment when he had nearly killed Paolo that morning he had not been free from this tendency.  In the instant when he had raised the tool to strike he had thought of the means of disposing of the body and of hindering suspicion.  The panorama of coming circumstances had presented itself to his mind with the rapidity of a flash of lightning, but in that infinitesimal duration of time Paolo had turned round, and the opportunity was gone.  His mind had worked quickly, but it had not gone to the end of its reasoning.  Now in the solitude of his studio he had found leisure to follow out the results to the last link of the chain.  He saw clearly that even if he eluded discovery after the crime, he could never escape from the horror of his dead brother’s presence.

He laid the silver figure of the Christ straight before him upon the leathern pad, and looked intently at it, while his hands played idly with the tools upon the table.  His deep-set, heavy eyes gazed fixedly at the wonderful face, with an expression which had not yet been there.  There was no longer any smile upon his thin lips, and his dark emaciated features were restful and quiet, almost solemn in their repose.