“How do we know that?  How can I tell what strange odds and ends of knowledge this Venetian artist may have picked up.  Artists,—­they have constantly more or less acquaintance with medical students, and such like.  Some knowledge of anatomy is needful to them in their business.  For my part, it seems to me very likely that this girl might have such knowledge as would teach her so easy a way of getting rid of her rival.  Then you will observe that very little physical strength was needed for the infliction of such a wound.  It might have been done perfectly easily by the hand of a young girl.  I declare it seems to me that the result of your examinations tends to make it more probable than ever that the Venetian is the criminal.”

“Well, it may be so.  Certain it is, that no degree of strength beyond what she, or any other such person could have exerted, was needed for giving that death to a sleepy person.  But it is equally clear that a certain amount of special knowledge was required for the purpose,” rejoined the anatomist.  “And now,” added he; “I must draw up my report.  A rivederci, Signor Fortini!  A rivederci, Signori!”

“One word more, Signor Professore, before I leave you,” said the lawyer; “is the special knowledge you speak of, such as—­any member of your profession we will say—­would be possessed of.”

“Well, I should not say that it was likely such a method of concealing a crime would have suggested itself to such an one, more than to another.  It is the clever invention of one who meditated murder.  But, I may say at once to you, what I shall have to say in due season to the magistrates, that the trick is not a new one.  I have heard of such a thing before now.”

“But not as a common thing,” pursued the lawyer.

“Quite the reverse—­as a very strange and peculiar thing,” replied the Professor.

“And when did you bear of a case of murder committed in this strange and peculiar manner?” persisted the lawyer.

The Professor shot a sharp quick glance at the lawyer’s face; and his own flushed red as he replied, “Ay—­if I could remember that—­ but it is a reported case; anybody may have read it.  A murder was committed by similar means in the Island of Sardinia, not very long ago!”

“Not very long ago,” reiterated the lawyer, musingly.

“No, not very long ago; but the case has been reported, I tell you.  Anybody may have read it.”

“Humph,” said the lawyer, as he turned to go, with his mind evidently busily at work both on the strange sort of confusion that had been visible in the Professor’s manner, and on the circumstances he had elicited from him.

“I’ll tell you what,” said one of the young students to the other, while they were engaged in preparing to consign the body of the murdered woman to the police.  “I’ll tell you what:  I’ll be blessed if I don’t think the governor knows, or has a shrewd guess, who it is has done this job.  Did you mark the way he looked, and went as pale as death, when I showed him the place?”