Like a balefully illumining lightning gleam, the clear memory that
those things were there at his hand flashed across his mind.
In another minute the deed was done.
And, in a few minutes more, the Marchese, looking the madman he felt
himself to be, got off his panting horse in his own stable-yard,
threw the rein to the scared old groom, and regained his room as he
had left it. Then the letter went on to speak of the terrible, the
dreadful days and hours which had elapsed since that time. It was
during the hours of that first morning, while it seemed to the
excited mind of the Marchese that every sound that was audible in
the Palazzo must herald the coming of those who had discovered the
deed, that it had occurred to him to send for his lawyer and give
him instructions for the preparation of his marriage contract. He
would lose nothing by doing so, for the fact of his offer of
marriage to the murdered woman would assuredly not be kept secret by
the old man, her reputed father, and the maid-servant. And the fact
of his declaring such an intention, and giving such instructions at
that date, would very powerfully contribute to prevent any mind from
conceiving the idea that he could have been cognizant of the death
of La Bianca at the moment when he was so acting.
And in truth, as the lawyer, examining his own mind, said to
himself, it had been this fact which had mainly prevented two or
three little circumstances from pointing his suspicions in the
direction of the truth.
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