accuse. I am the Princess of Acireale; I have been your
ward; you and your husband have robbed me, and you have tried to murder
me. Though I am only a girl, justice will move more quickly for me than
it would for you, even if you could call it to help you. Now choose, and
waste no time."

While she had been speaking, Macomer had stared at her with an
expression of genuine childish amusement.

"Poor Pulcinella!" he exclaimed softly. "How your wife can talk, when
she is angry! Poor fellow!"

The tone was so natural that Matilde again looked at him uneasily, and
moved nearer to him, not answering Veronica.

"Come, Gregorio," she said, "you are ill. Come to your room--you must
not stay here."

"I am sorry you do not like the marionettes," he said gravely. "They
always amuse me. Stay a little longer."

Veronica supposed that he was ill from the effects of the poisoning and
that he was in some sort of delirium. But she did not pity him, and was
relentless. She moved nearer to her aunt.

"Answer me!" she said sternly. "This is the last time. If you deny the
truth now, I will go to the chief of police at once."

"Oh! poor old Pulcinella!" cried Macomer, laughing gently. "How she
gives it to him!"

Matilde was almost distracted.

"You will be arrested at once," said Veronica, pitilessly.

"Never mind, Pulcinella!" exclaimed Macomer. "Courage, my friend! You
know you always get away from the policeman! Ha! ha! ha!"

Matilde saw Veronica moving to go to the door. She straightened herself
and pointed to her husband.

"Yes," she said. "He did it--and he is mad."

Her voice was firm and clear, for the die was cast. When she had spoken,
she turned from them both towards the fireplace, and hid her face in her
hands. If he could act his madness out, she, at least, would still be
free and alive. Veronica stood still a moment longer, looking back.

"That is the other piece," said Macomer, thoughtfully. "Pulcinella does
not go mad in this one. The man has forgotten the parts. It is a
pity--it was so amusing."

There was silence for a moment. Matilde did not look round.

"I think he will recover," said Veronica. "But I am glad you have told
the truth. I promise that you shall be safe."

In a moment she was gone.

"Just so," said Macomer, speaking to himself. "He forgot the words of
the piece, and so he made it end rather abruptly. Let us go home,
Matilde, since it is over."

"It is of no use to go on acting insanit