“Me?  What can I tell?  What can it be necessary to examine me for?  I know absolutely nothing; it is impossible that I should know anything of the matter; besides, I am too ill to leave my chamber.”

“Of course, if Tomosarcbi were, after visiting you by direction of the tribunal, to certify that you were not in a fit state—­”

“I won’t see Tomosarcbi; no testimony can be needed to the fact that I am in no condition to leave the house; I tell you, Signor Fortini, I will not see him; I cannot see anybody.”

“I fear, Signor Marchese, that it would be impossible in any other way to avoid complying with the request of the tribunal for your presence.  Besides that, it would be far better, in every point of view, that you should show yourself in the court.  The fact of your absence on such an occasion could not but be unpleasantly remarked on,” urged the lawyer.

“Why?  What can I be wanted for?  What can I tell them?  It is very evident that I am, and must needs be, utterly ignorant of the whole matter,” returned the Marchese.

“There are various points on which the magistrates will, doubtless, wish for the information which your lordship can give them, although you may have no means of throwing any light on the main facts of the assassination.  They will wish, for instance, to ask respecting the circumstances of the Marchese Ludovico’s expedition to the Pineta.  The police, you must remember, Signor Marchese, are already aware that you were cognizant of the Marchese Ludovico’s intention of taking La Lalli to the Pineta.  That has been ascertained from the admission of the Conte Leandro—­”

“A thousand curses on the Conte Leandro,” exclaimed the Marchese.

“His figure in the matter is a deplorable one, truly; but you can understand, Signor Marchese, that the court will desire to ask some questions of you on this head—­nothing that you can have any difficulty in answering or any objection to answer; but I am sure you will see, on consideration, that it would have a very bad effect for your lordship to show the least desire to avoid being present.”

“It will be most distasteful to me—­very painful, indeed—­I don’t think it ought to be required of me under all the circumstances,” pleaded the unhappy man.

“Unpleasant it will be, doubtless; the whole affair has not been a pleasant one for anybody concerned in it, Signor Marchese—­for any one in Ravenna, I may say.  But you may depend upon it that it will be the wish of the court and of everybody present to make it as little painful to you as possible.  And it is my very serious and very urgent advice to you to make the necessary exertion, and not to express to any one either the intention or the wish to absent yourself.”

And then the lawyer took his leave—­not surprised that the Marchese, broken down and in the state in which he saw him, should feel it very disagreeable to face his fellow citizens on the occasion of the trial; but, perhaps, having some other thoughts in his mind besides those he expressed as to the ill effect likely to be produced by any refusal of the Marchese to make his appearance in the court.