* * * * *

Out of a sort of vaporous dream came the slow sound of carriage wheels
bumping along the ruts of the road; then a light which was not of the
moon; then a sudden pause in the noise of wheels and the sound of a
coarse, strong voice speaking in tones of great excitement.

'Body of Bacchus! What a night for adventures! Here is another of them!'

The light came nearer, and another voice burst out in English, 'By the
Lord! That's the man!'

The voices both grew dim, and though they still talked, they sounded
like the noise of running water, wordless and indistinct. Then I felt
myself lifted into a carriage, and until I awoke here I knew nothing. It
was the jar of bolts, and the rattling fall of a chain, and the grating
noise of a key in a lock which awoke me. I turned and recognised the
man who entered--an officer, by name Ratuzzi, to whom I had done some
service in old days. I asked him feebly where I was and how I came
there.

'In the town gaol,' he answered gravely, and the solemnity of his face
and tone chilled me.

'In the town gaol?' I repeated. 'Why was I brought here?'

'I am very sorry, signor,' he said in the same tone. 'In whatsoever I
can serve you, you may command me. Shall I give orders to send for a
doctor?'

'Why was I brought here?' I asked again.

He made no reply, and weak and shaken as I was, I sat up and reiterated
my question.

'You are charged with the murder of Carlo Grammont.'

'Charles Grammont? Murder?' I repeated.

'Would you wish to see a doctor or an avvocato?'

I could only moan in answer.

'Charles Grammont murdered! Oh, my poor Cecilia! My angel and my love!'

For the face of the man in the lane was the face of Arthur Clyde, and
the moonlight had shown to me, oh! too, too clearly, the blood that
smeared his brow.

CHAPTER V.--_LA TEMPESTA VA CRESCENDO_.

I am remanded for trial.

There is a depth below all possibilities of pain and grief, even before
one reaches the grave. I am in that depth already, and I do not believe
that there is anything in the world which could touch me with sympathy
or with sorrow. I am not even annoyed at myself and my own mental
condition, as I surely have a right to be. My bodily health is
tolerable. I sleep well at night, and during the day I eat with fair
appetite. Some of my belongings have been brought from Posilipo here;
amongst them a small mirror. I am so much a stranger to myself in this
new-fou