CHAPTER X
Public Opinion
The post-mortem examination had taken place at an early hour, before themembers of the idler portion of the society of the city had come forthfrom their homes. An Italian idler--one of the class who, in commonItalian phrase, are able to "fare vita beata," to lead a happy life, i.e. to do nothing whatever from morning till night--an Italian of thatfavoured class never passes his hours in his own house, or dwelling ofwhatever kind it may be. As soon as he is up and dressed he goes outinto the city to enjoy the air and sunshine if it be fine weather, tosaunter in cafes or at the Circolo, if it rain.
Professor Tomosarchi and lawyer Fortini had been earlier afoot, and thescene described in the last chapter had passed, and the general resultsof the examination were beginning to be known in the city, when thejeunesse doree of Ravenna began to assemble at the Circolo. It was knownalso by that time that the young Venetian artist, with whom Ludovico waswell known to be on intimate terms of some kind or other, had beenarrested at her lodging at an early hour that morning, on suspicion ofhaving been concerned in the murder of La Bianca.
Of course that terrible event continued more than ever to occupy theattention of all Ravenna, almost to the exclusion of every other topicof conversation. It was very easy to understand the nature of themotive, which might be supposed to have led Paolina to do the deed. Andwhen it became known farther, that the means by which the death of thevictim had been brought about were such as might easily have beenaccomplished by the weakest woman's hand; and that it had beendiscovered that Paolina had been in the Pineta--for such was the notquite accurate form which the report assumed just about the time whenthe crime must have been committed, the general opinion inclined verymuch to the notion that she, the stranger from Venice, was, indeed, theassassin.
Precedents were hunted up, and many a story told of women who had doneequally desperate deeds under similar provocation.
"I feel very little doubt of it, myself," said Manutoli; "there isnothing improbable in such a solution, while it is in the highest degreeimprobable that Ludovico should have raised his hand against a sleepingwoman, enticed by him in the forest for the purpose. Bah! It ismonstrous."
"He would have been more to be pitied than blamed if he had done it,"said another of the young men, who did not bear himself a reputation ofthe most brilliant sort; "if I had a rich uncle I swear by all thesaints, that I would not let the prettiest woman that ever made a foolof a man, come between me and my inheritance."
"Ludovico was not the man to have done it any way. Besides, the mischiefhad not been done; it was only a project talked of. There might havebeen a hundred ways of breaking off so absurd a match. It would havebeen time to have recourse to les grands moyens, when the thing had beendone, and all else had failed. To my notion jealousy has done it."
"So say I. Two to one I bet that it turns out that the Venetian girl hasdone the trick."
"But have you heard, all of you, that there is a third horse in thefield?" said the Marchese Faraoni whose palazzo was close to the housein which the Conte Leandro lived; "there is another candidate for thegalleys. Has nobody heard that our poet was arrested before he was outof bed this morning?"
"What! Leandro?"
"The Conte Lombardoni?"
"No!"
"You don't mean that?"
"What, arrested for this murder of La Bianca?"
"Impossible!"
"But quite true, nevertheless. Anybody can easily assure themselves ofthe fact by walking as far as the Palazzo del Governo."
"Leandro arrested on suspicion of murder? Well, I think the tragedy ispassing into a farce."
"It will be fatal to Leandro. He will die of fright, if no other evilhappens to him."
"Think of the cantos of verse he will make on it."
"He will die singing, like a swan."
"But do you know anything about it, Faraoni? Have you any idea how hehas come to be implicated in the matter?"
"I learnt at his own lodging that he did not come home to bed the nightof the ball, but was absent from home at the time the murder must havebeen committed. And then I was told that the men at the Porta Nuova haddeclared that they had seen him pass out of the city going in thedirection of the Pineta at a very early hour that morning."
"Per Bacco! it is very strange. What, in the name of all the saints,could he be doing out there at that time, when all honest folks were intheir beds?"
"Remember all the snubbing he has had from the poor Diva all throughcarnival. By Jove! it looks very queer."
"Do you remember how he turned all sorts of colours here last night,when we were talking of it?"
"And how anxious he seemed to say everything that appeared to make itbear hard upon Ludovico?"
"Yes, and contradicted himself. First, he knew about it, and then heknew nothing."
"Per Dio! I don't know what to think of it."
"So, then, there are now three persons suspected--Ludovico; and theVenetian girl, and the Conte Leandro?"
"And all three were not far from the spot where the deed was done, andall three had motives, more or less credible, for doing it."
"Ludovico, because his uncle was going to marry the woman, which wouldhave cut him out of his inheritance; the Venetian girl, because sheloved Ludovico, and saw him making love to the poor Diva; and Leandro,because she snubbed him, and laughed at him, and would have nothing tosay to either him or his verses."
"And the one certain thing is, that the unlucky Diva lies dead, and wasmurdered by somebody. Upon my life, it is the queerest thing I everheard of."
"What do you think of it, Manutoli?" said one of the speakers in theforegoing dialogue to the Baron, who was an older man than most of theothers there.
"My notion is that the girl is the guilty party," said Manutoli. "As forLeandro, it seems too absurd. I don't think he has courage enough tokill a cat: Besides, I daresay he hated La Bianca quite enough toslander her, and backbite, and that sort of thing; but murder--"
"She made fun of him. Leandro don't like to be laughed at,--specially bythe women, and, more specially still, when other fellows are by to hearit and then those poets are always such desperate fellows I should notwonder--" said one of the young men.
In the meantime, while talk of this sort was going on at the Circolo,Signor Fortini was on his way out to St. Apollinare in Classe, accordingto the intention he had expressed on the preceding evening; but he wasnot making the expedition alone. Signor Pietro Logarini, the PapalCommissioner of Police, was bound on the same errand. The old lawyer, ashe passed under the gateway of the Porta Nuova in his comfortablecaleche, overtook Signor Logarini, who was about to proceed to St.Apollinare on foot, and who had paused at the gate for the purpose ofmaking some inquiries of the officials there.
"Good morning, Signor Pietro. I suppose we are bound for the same place;will you permit me to offer you a seat in my carriage?" said the lawyer.
"Thanks, Signor Giovacchino, I shall be glad of the lift. Yes, I supposewe are about the same business, and a bad one it is. I was making a fewinquiries at the gate; but I don't see that there is much to be gleanedthere," said the Commissary, as he got into the lawyer's carriage.
"Well, it seems to me that we have reaped a pretty good harvest therealready," returned the lawyer.
"Enough to make the matter one of the most puzzling I ever had to dowith," returned the Commissary. "You have heard, I suppose, that we havearrested the girl Paolina Foscarelli, and the Conte Leandro Lombardoni?"
"No; but it was a matter of course that you would do so--specially thegirl," said the lawyer.
"We could not avoid arresting the Conte also; it is so unaccountablethat he should have been going out of the city, and so near the place ofthe crime."
"What account does he give of the matter himself?" asked the lawyer.
"No very clear one; and he seems to be frightened out of his senses; butthat proves nothing. One man takes a thing coolly, another is so flushedthat you would think he
was guilty only to look at him; but there islittle to be judged from such appearances. I don't much think the Contehad anything to do with it, for my part."
"What were you asking about at the gate?"
"Well, I thought I would just ascertain if any other parties had passedthe gate that same morning," said the Commissary.
"Others! Have we not enough to make a sufficient puzzle already?" saidFortini.
"Yes, indeed; but information is always useful. The men say that theyare quite sure that no other person of any kind whatever passed the gateeither outwards or inwards, during the night till the Conte Leandropassed in the morning; and then the girl not long afterwards; and thenthe Marchesino with the prima donna."
The lawyer remained plunged in thought for some minutes, as the carriagerolled over the flat dismal-looking road towards the old church; andthen he said, shaking his head, and pouting out his lips,--"I think weshall find, Signor Pietro, that that girl has done it. There's nothing ajealous woman will not do. We shall find, I think, that to have been thecase; that is, if we succeed in finding out anything at all. Perhaps themost likely thing is that we may never know what hand did the deed."
"Oh, come, I hope better things than that. That would not suit our bookat all. We must find it out if we can; and it is early days yet to talkof being beat. We are not half at the end of our means of investigationyet, Signor Giovacchino," said the Commissary.
"It may be that something may be to be picked up at the church here."
"And then I must go on to the farm-house, where the Marchesino and theprima donna left their carriage."
"We'll have a talk with the friars first."
As Fortini spoke the carriage drew up at the west front of the desolateold basilica. It was a fine spring morning, and by the time the lawyerand the Commissary reached the church, the sun had dissipated the mist,and it was warm and pleasant.
The great doors of the church stood yawningly open as usual, and thegate of iron rail was ajar. And at the south-western corner of thebuilding, just where the sun-ray from the south-west made a sharp lineagainst the black shadow cast by the western front of the building, anold Franciscan was sitting; not Father Fabiano, but his sole companion,Friar Simone, the lay-brother.
Neither Signor Fortini nor the police Commissary had ever seen the oldguardian of the Basilica; but they were sufficiently instructed in thedetails of Franciscan costume to perceive at once that the figure beforethem was not a priest, but only a lay-brother.
"Is there any place, frate, where I can put my horse and carriage undershelter for half an hour or so?" said the lawyer, as the old friar,having risen from his seat in the sunshine, came forward towards thecarriage.
"There is place enough and to spare, Signori," said the old man,pointing with a languid and wearylike gesture to the huge pile ofhalf-dilapidated conventual buildings on the southern side of thechurch; "you can put horse and carriage as they stand into the old barnthere, without undoing a buckle. I will open the door for yourlordships, if it will hang together so that it can be opened."
The lawyer and the Commissary dismounted from the carriage, and theformer proceeded to lead his horse into the huge barn of the convent;while the latter employed himself in observing every detail of thesurrounding localities with those rapid all-seeing and all-rememberingglances that the habits and education of his profession had rendered apart of his nature, preparatory to the investigations they had both cometo make.