ng satisfied, she assumed something of the air of
a theatrical avenging angel, and her utterance was rhetorical.

"I come here," she said, "at your invitation, to exhibit to your eyes the
evidence of what I yesterday asserted--the evidence of the monstrous
crime of which I accuse that man." Here she raised her finger with a
gesture of scorn, and extending her whole arm, pointed towards Giovanni.

"Madam," interrupted the old Prince, "I will trouble you to select your
epithets and expressions with more care. Pray be brief, and show what you
have brought."

"I will show it, indeed," replied Donna Tullia, "and you shall tremble at
what you see. When you have evidence of the truth of what I say, you may
choose any language you please to define the action of your son. These
documents," she said, holding up the package, "are attested copies made
from the originals--the first two in the possession of the curate of the
church of San Bernardino da Siena, at Aquila, the other in the office of
the Stato Civile in the same city. As they are only copies, you need not
think that you will gain anything by destroying them."

"Spare your comments upon our probable conduct," interrupted the Prince,
roughly. Donna Tullia eyed him with a scornful glance, and her face began
to grow red.

"You may destroy them if you please," she repeated; "but I advise you to
observe that they bear the Government stamp and the notarial seal of
Gianbattista Caldani, notary public in the city of Aquila, and that they
are, consequently, beyond all doubt genuine copies of genuine documents."

Donna Tullia proceeded to open the envelope and withdraw the three papers
it contained. Spreading them out, she took up the first, which contained
the extract from the curate's book of banns. It set forth that upon the
three Sundays preceding the 19th of June 1863, the said curate had
published, in the parish church of San Bernardino da Siena, the banns of
marriage between Giovanni Saracinesca and Felice Baldi. Donna Tullia read
it aloud.

Giovanni could hardly suppress a laugh, it sounded so strangely. Corona
herself turned pale, though she firmly believed the whole thing to be an
imposture of some kind.

"Permit me, madam," said old Saracinesca, stepping forward and taking the
paper from her hand. He carefully examined the seal and stamp. "It is
very cleverly done," he said with a sneer; "but there should be only
one letter _r_ in the name Saracinesca--here it is