hem?"

"He has a passion for game of that kind, and does nothing but hunt them.
He makes some very ingenious traps to catch them with. I do not molest
him, because the taste is so innocent, and besides, saves me the expense
of several cats."

"But how came that passion to endanger Crespo's life?"

"Ah--one is not always lucky. Perhaps the last rats Crespo ate, had
feasted on arsenic--rats are so whimsical. The poor devil, perhaps, was
poisoned in that manner. Rather an expensive taste. Unfortunately, the
lesson will do him no good."

After this touching funeral oration, the jailer took out a blue and torn
handkerchief, and dried his eyes. The Count shuddered at this story. He
understood the atrocious plan adopted by Pietro to get rid of a
dangerous witness, and forgetful of his own safety, said,

"Perhaps, if you hurry for a physician, the poor man may yet be saved."

"Bah! do you think the Governor would let one of his officers die
without assistance? The doctor, however, was too late; and when I came
hither, Crespo was dying."

Notwithstanding his firmness, the horror of Monte-Leone at the wretch
was so great that he hastened to terminate the conversation. The quasi
complicity in a crime committed in cold blood, and with premeditation;
was odious to him.

"Do not fear lest my examination should compromise you. I will be
prudent. Now, one word more, or if you please to consider it so, one
favor more--when will I be tried?"

"In two days. To-night they will come to take you to _Castello Capuano_,
where the supreme court will meet."

Pietro left, and Monte-Leone relapsed into a profound reverie. The drama
was about to begin. What the Count hitherto had done, was as it were but
a prelude, an exposition, or rather a skilful introduction. On the eve
of the event he did not quail, but like a sagacious tactician asked
himself if he had been guilty of no neglect, if he had taken advantage
of all the circumstances. One thing alone made him uneasy. When he
returned to the Etruscan villa, to assume the clothes of the
assistant-jailer, he saw with terror that he had lost the great emerald,
the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of Benvenuto, the family ring, so long celebrated
and so well known. He readily enough fancied that it had been lost
during his rapid flight, and did not suspect that it had fallen into the
hands of his enemies. Reassured on this point, he waited patiently for
the hour when, as the jailer said, they would come to