Olympio and Marzio, who had nothing to fear from justice, remained lurking about the castle; one day Beatrice saw them from a window, and made signs that she had something to communicate to them.  The same night Olympio, who having been castellan knew all the approaches to the fortress, made his way there with his companion.  Beatrice awaited them at a window which looked on to a secluded courtyard; she gave them letters which she had written to her brother and to Monsignor Guerra.  The former was to approve, as he had done before, the murder of their father; for she would do nothing without his sanction.  As for Monsignor Guerra, he was to pay Olympio a thousand piastres, half the stipulated sum; Marzio acting out of pure love for Beatrice, whom he worshipped as a Madonna; which observing, the girl gave him a handsome scarlet mantle, trimmed with gold lace, telling him to wear it for love of her.  As for the remaining moiety, it was to be paid when the death of the old man had placed his wife and daughter in possession of his fortune.

The two sbirri departed, and the imprisoned conspirators anxiously awaited their return.  On the day fixed, they were seen again.  Monsignor Guerra had paid the thousand piastres, and Giacomo had given his consent.  Nothing now stood in the way of the execution of this terrible deed, which was fixed for the 8th of September, the day of the Nativity of the Virgin; but Signora Lucrezia, a very devout person, having noticed this circumstance, would not be a party to the committal of a double sin; the matter was therefore deferred till the next day, the 9th.

That evening, the 9th of September, 1598, the two women, supping with the old man, mixed some narcotic with his wine so adroitly that, suspicious though he was, he never detected it, and having swallowed the potion, soon fell into a deep sleep.

The evening previous, Marzio and Olympio had been admitted into the castle, where they had lain concealed all night and all day; for, as will be remembered, the assassination would have been effected the day before had it not been for the religious scruples of Signora Lucrezia Petroni.  Towards midnight, Beatrice fetched them out of their hiding-place, and took them to her father’s chamber, the door of which she herself opened.  The assassins entered, and the two women awaited the issue in the room adjoining.

After a moment, seeing the sbirri reappear pale and nerveless, shaking their heads without speaking, they at once inferred that nothing had been done.

“What is the matter?” cried Beatrice; “and what hinders you?”

“It is a cowardly act,” replied the assassins, “to kill a poor old man in his sleep.  At the thought of his age, we were struck with pity.”

Then Beatrice disdainfully raised her head, and in a deep firm .voice thus reproached them.

“Is it possible that you, who pretend to be brave and strong, have not courage enough to kill a sleeping old man?  How would it be if he were awake?  And thus you steal our money!  Very well:  since your cowardice compels me to do so, I will kill my father myself; but you will not long survive him.”