To Ludovico the tidings which reached him of the favourable turn
matters were taking as to the probability of his having himself to
answer for the murder of the singer, were neutralized in any effect
they might otherwise have had of bringing him happiness, by the fact
that he was exculpated only in exact proportion to the increasing
probability that Paolina might be held guilty of the crime.
If, in truth, he carried in his own bosom the consciousness of his
own guilt, it may easily be imagined how horrible to him would
appear the prospect of escaping from the consequences of it by such
means. And if that were, indeed, the dreadful truth, the repeated
declarations which he had made to Signor Fortini to the effect that,
rather than see Paolina condemned as guilty, he would confess
himself to be the murderer, would in no wise appear as mere
ebullitions of his determination to save at all price the girl he
loved.
But, during those days Ludovico suffered, he either bore his
sufferings with much more of manly self-command than did his uncle,
or else his agony was (as Signor Fortini, who saw them both, could
testify) much less severe than that which seemed to be slowly
dragging down the Marchese Lamberto to the grave.
The lawyer had told Ludovico that he was then going to his uncle;
and, in fact, he did so.
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