leisure. I did not dare to question him further,
and waited in an agony of suspense.
'That is the name,' he said--'an English name.'
He placed his thumb and leisurely turned round the paper to me on the
table which stood before us. I tried to read, but all my pulses seemed
throbbing round my eyes, and I was dazzled and blind. He took the paper
up again, but I reached out my hand for it.
'I did not read the name,' I said. 'Permit me once more.'
He passed the paper again towards me, and I read--
'John Baker. Claims to be an Englishman, and speaks in English only. Is
believed to be by birth an Italian, but a naturalised British subject. A
person of notoriously evil character.'
This at least was not Arthur. I breathed again, and for a moment a wild
hope sprang up in my heart. It died again directly. Ah, if I could have
believed that he was innocent! But the evidence of which I was the sole
repository was beyond all doubt, beyond all hope.
'No,' I said. 'I know nothing of this man. What is the evidence against
him?'
'The evidence against him is the knowledge that he was poor until the
night of the murder, and has since suddenly become rich. Further, that
a pocket-book found in his possession was smeared with blood. The book
contains a large sum of money in English notes, and is believed to have
belonged to the murdered man.'
I had never supposed that Arthur had robbed the body of his dead enemy.
'If this be proved, Signor l'Avvocato,' I said, after some time of
silence, 'what punishment will fall upon this man?'
'The salt mines will not be enough for him,' the advocate answered. 'He
will probably be shot. You see, signor, he has denied his nationality,
and that of itself will embitter the national feeling against him.'
'Then,' I answered, 'these suspicions must not be bolstered by false
proofs. This man has, perhaps, robbed a dead body, but he has not
committed murder.'
'Signor Calvotti,' said the advocate, the black fire burning slowly
in his eyes, and a slow flush creeping to his pale forehead whilst he
spoke, 'what mystery surrounds your share of this matter I can only
faintly guess. But I know that it is not a mystery to you. I have found
out this, at least, since I have been here--that you know the murderer,
and that you determine to shield him, even at your own expense. Now, I
warn you that if you deny me your confidence, I will convict the real
man, whosoever he may be.'
He fixed those s
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