"That ought to be told to the Commissary of Police" said another
"I say, my notion is that Lombardoni did it himself," exclaimed a
third.
"Ah, to be sure. What is more likely? We all know how the poor Diva
snubbed him. Remember the fate of his verses. If that is not enough
to drive a man and a poet to do murder I don't know what is. To be
sure, 'twas Leandro did it," rejoined the first.
"I can believe that, if I never believe anything else," said
Spadoni.
"Let's send to the Commissary and tell him that the Conte Leandro
confesses that it was he that murdered La Bianca, cried one of the
previous speakers.
"What on earth are you dreaming of," cried the persecuted poet,
turning ghastly livid with affright; "I know nothing about the
matter, nothing! How in the world should I know anything about it?"
"Oh, I thought you knew more about it than anybody else just now,"
sneered one of his persecutors.
"He looks to me very much as if he did know something about it in
sober earnest," said the bald-headed chess-player; who had been
looking hard at the evidences of terror on the poet's face.
"But where is the Marchese Ludovico?" asked the same young man, who
had heard that the Marchese had fainted at the sight of the body.
A general silence fell on the chattering group at this question:
till Manutoli answered with a very grave face "Ah, you must ask the
Commissary of Police that question, Signor Marco.
Pages:
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500