A Siren

  CHAPTER VII

  The Friar's Testimony

  In a criminal trial in the states of His Holiness the Pope, there isnone of that absolute and inflexible adherence to certain rigid formsand rules which gives to many of the proceedings of our courts thatcharacter of an inevitable destiny-like march which is so dramatic inits operations--that sense of the presence there of a power greater thanthat of the greatest of the men concerned in the administration of it,which constitutes on large element in an Englishman's respect for thelaw. At times this automatic power, which has been thus createdFaust-like, by reason of the impossibility of pre-adapting its mechanismto the exigences of every case, works to unforseen and undesiredends--sometimes even to absurd ones. And, with thinkers of a certainphase of modern thought, it has been a favourite taunt against theaverage British mind, that it rather delights in the contemplation ofsuch abnormal workings of the great automatic law in which it hascreated. Some manifest mistake or error has occurred. The man supposedto be murdered walks into court; but it is a minute too late; theverdict has been given--the sentence pronounced. All the court judges,witnesses, counsel--look at each other in dismay; the great lawautomaton cannot be made to swerve in its path by any power there. Andthe average Englishman likes the contemplation of such a case, it issneered; and the sneer may be joined in by those who, under othersystems, have the immediate power of setting any such mistakes right bya word. But the sneer, let the Englishman be assured, would by no meansbe joined in by the population, who are subject to the action of courtsand judges thus able by superior word to direct the course of justice.

  The new incident which suddenly arose to change all the aspects of thetrial and its results would, as far as the analogy of the Roman mode ofproceeding and our own holds good, have been too late in one of ourcourts to produce the results which it did produce. The judges were onthe point of retiring to consider their decision and sentence when theywere met at the little private door, by which they were about to leavethe court, by one of the ushers. And the consequence of the few words hespoke to them was that they gave an order--turned back, and resumedtheir places.

  It might well have been that the new incident might have been preventedfrom bringing about the result it was calculated to bring about in theRavenna Court; but the miscarriage would have been caused in analtogether different way from that which has been spoken as sometimescharacterising our own courts.

  It was very clear to everybody present that the judges would pronouncePaolina to be guilty of the crime they were investigating; and toeverybody present, with one or two exceptions, this was a very agreeableand satisfactory winding-up of the unhappy affair. Ravenna would be ableto wash her hands of the matter. It was wholly, both in conception andexecution, the work of a stranger. Since so great a misfortune hadhappened, it could not be more satisfactorily accounted for.

  It is probable enough, therefore, that any Tom, Jack, or Harry, who, atthat conjuncture, had presented himself at the prefettura for the avowedpurpose of bringing a new light to the solution of the mystery which hadbeen already so satisfactorily solved, might have experiencedconsiderable difficulty in obtaining for himself any access to, orhearing from, the judges.

  But the person who had now thus presented himself at the prefettura ofRavenna belonged to a body, the very lowest and poorest members ofwhich, in that country, can always find, somehow or other, some means ofcompassing almost any object which is not disapproved by some superiormember of their own corporation. The new-comer was a friar--old FatherFabiano, the priest of St. Apollinare, as the reader may haveconjectured.

  The police agents had been anxious to produce him there, as the readerknows, and he had baffled their wishes. Now the result which it had beendesired that he should contribute to had been brought about, or as goodas brought about, without him. What did he want there now?

  There was an old usher about the court, however, whose advancing yearswere beginning to make him disagreeably conscious that the time was athand when a sentence to a long term of purgatory--to say nothing of anyseverer doom--might make it exceedingly desirable to him to stand wellwith all those who are understood to have influence with the governmentin the world beyond the grave; and,--if there had been no such person,the friar would have known somebody--some old or young woman,probably--or he would have known some other friar who knew some such,who would have been able to influence some brother, lover, or husband,in the way he wished. As it was, Father Fabiano had no difficulty at allin conveying the message he wished to communicate to the judges.

  They turned back to their places in the court, to the surprise andsudden awakening of new interest in the audience, and ordered that thenew witness who had presented himself should be admitted and heard.

  And Father Fabiano, bowed with age, and his hoary head bent down on hisbreast, but neither shivering nor shaking, advanced to thewitness-table. The crucifix was lying on it, and the friar, with themanner of a man recognizing in a new employment tools which he is wellused to, at once stretched out his emaciated and claw-like hand, andmade oath that he was about to speak the truth.

  The Procuratore of the court then began to examine the old man withreference to his knowledge of the circumstances connected with the visitof Paolina Foscarelli to the church of St. Apollinare, and her disposalof herself after leaving it; but the friar replied that it would beuselessly occupying the time of the court to enter into any suchparticulars, inasmuch as he had come thither to prove that Paolina hadnothing whatever to do with the crime.

  "But," remarked the Procuratore, "if it is in your power to do that, whydid you not give the necessary information to the Commissary of Policewhen you were, on several occasions, examined at St. Apollinare?"

  "Signori miei," said the old man, addressing himself to the court ingeneral, "it is no affair of mine to meddle with the administration ofhuman justice. No words that I could say could undo the deed, or bringthe murdered woman back to life. Evil enough had been done. Why should Icause further trouble, and sorrow, and shame, to others? It was morefitting to one of my order to leave retribution in the hands of Him whocan best award it, and whose mercy may touch the heart of the sinnerwith repentance."

  "But if so, frate mio," rejoined the Procuratore, "what, pray, is themotive that now brings you here?"

  "Surely, the determination that the innocent shall not suffer for theguilty. It seemed to me that it would never be known, save to Him whoknows the secrets of all hearts, what hand had done that terrible deed;but now I know that the fallibility of all human judgment has led questiSignori to the conclusion that the girl Paolina is guilty, and hercondemnation would be a misfortune greater than the first--I knowing thehand which did that deed."

  "Ha, you know the murderer; you suppose you know him? You come to offerus your guess, your suggestion?"

  "I come, Signori miei, with pain and sorrow and great reluctance, tosave you from condemning an innocent person by naming him who isguilty."

  A sort of buzz and almost shiver of interest, anxiety, and expectationran through the court, as the old friar spoke the above words in astronger voice than that in which he had yet spoken.

  "Friar," said the Procuratore solemnly and severely; "it is my duty,before you speak, to warn you to take heed to what you say. You areabout, you say, to make an accusation the most tremendous that one mancan bring against another. Bethink you whether you are able tosubstantiate what you are about to utter. Remember that, if you cannotsubstantiate it, it would be an hundred-fold better that your suspicionshould remain unuttered."

  The Procuratore, as well as every one else in the court, had little orno doubt that the friar was about to accuse the Marchese Ludovico as theperpetrator of the murder. And some, among whom were Signor Fortini, andSignor Logarini the Commissary of Police, were persuaded that the oldman was going to trump up some story in the hope of saving hiscountrywoman, Paolina.

  "Were it not for the necessity of protecting the innocent, Signori, Godknows how much I should prefer to carry my
terrible secret with me tothe grave. Signori miei, these eyes SAW the deed done, that put thesleeping woman to death. Only God and I, the lowest of his servants! Godand I saw the Marchese Lamberto di Castelmare do that deed!"

  A loud indignant murmur of incredulity was beginning to rise throughoutthe crowded court, like the first getting up of a storm wind.

  But it was suddenly hushed, and turned into a spasm of horror andintense shock, that made every man hold his breath, when the sound of asudden heavy fall was heard; and it was seen that the Marchese Lambertohad fallen insensible to the ground.