“I knew that they were where I have now found them some four or five months ago—­towards the end of last year.  You do not remember, probably, some curious details of a crime that was perpetrated a year ago or more in the island of Sardinia.  I don’t know that the details were published save in the medical journals.  You know how great an interest our unfortunate friend used to take in all such matters.  We talked over that curious case.  He doubted the possibility of causing death with so little violence, and by means which should leave so little trace behind them.  I showed him how readily and easily it might be done.  You may judge then, Signore Dottore, of the misgivings that assailed me when I discovered how that unhappy singer had been put to death.  You will understand, too, why he so absolutely refused to see me, and how little desirous I was to see him.”

“But, Signor Professore—­what should you have done if—?”

“If that girl had been condemned.  You may guess that my state of mind has not been a pleasant one.  I did not know what to do:  I hoped that no conviction would have been arrived at.  Of course it would have been impossible to keep silence while that poor girl suffered the penalty of the crime I had such strong reason to think was the work of another.  Truly it is in all ways best as it is.”

“You are taking it for granted that the tribunal will give credit to the friar’s testimony; but that is not certain; nay, it is not certain—­at least, we do not yet know—­we have only his assertion that he saw the Marchese do the deed.  With these evidences before us,” continued the lawyer, “we can hardly doubt that the fact was so.  But stay—­what is this?—­a letter addressed to me—­’Al Chiarmo Signor Dottore Giovacchino Fortini.  To be opened only after my death, and in case my death shall happen within one year from the present time!’ Perhaps this may render any further doubts as to the conduct we ought to pursue unnecessary.  Let us see.”

And Signor Fortini sat down to open and read the packet; while the Professor returned to the bed on which the dead man was lying, and occupied himself with paying the last duties to his friend’s remains.

The letter was a very long one, consisting of several sheets of closely-written paper.  It is unnecessary to add to these pages by giving a transcript of it, because the facts which it detailed at length are either such as the reader is already acquainted with or such as he can readily imagine for himself.

When the narrative reached the events which had occurred at the ball in the early hours of the Ash Wednesday morning, after mentioning the circumstance of the information which had been conveyed to the writer by the Conte Leandro Lombardoni as to the projected expedition to the Pineta, the Marchese went on to describe the state of mind in which he had left the Circolo.  He protested that, although every smallest detail of what he did had remained stamped on his memory