Ah--h--h! it is a bad business, Signor Marchese, a bad
business.
"And is it possible, Signor Fortini, that you do really in your own
heart believe me to be guilty of this deed?" said Ludovico, with a
sigh that was almost a groan, and looking steadily and wistfully
into the eyes of his companion.
"What is more to the purpose, unfortunately, is that it does not
signify a straw whether I believe it or not. You will not be judged,
Signor Marchese, by my belief; and I am very sure what those who
have to judge you will believe. I have some experience of these
matters. I know the courts. I see the exceeding difficulty of
believing anything else as to this death than that it was done by
your hands; by you, who had the opportunity and the motive, whereas,
it is impossible to suggest any semblance of such motive on the part
of any other human being; by you, in whose company she was last seen
alive. She had valuable ornaments about her person. If you had
removed them it would, at least, have left it open to the
magistrates to attribute the deed to another motive, and to other
hands. I see all this. I see the whole case before me; and, I tell
you, that your only chance is to escape while it is yet time."
"My solemn assertion, then, produces no effect on your mind, Signor
Fortini?" said Ludovico, looking at him steadily.
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