The paper of the letter was crackling in his hand, and his husky voice
was breaking. Save for these sounds and the tramp--tramp--tramp of the
soldiers drilling outside, there was a dead silence in the court.
"You are not fancying at all, Rocco," said the Public Prosecutor. "We
are all sorry for you, and I am sure the illustrious gentlemen of the
tribunal pity you. Your comrade, your master, the man you have followed
and trusted, is false to you. He is a traitor to his friend, his
country, and his King. The denunciation you made in prison is true in
substance and in fact. I advise you to adhere to it, and to cast
yourself on the clemency of the court."
"Here--you--shut up your head and let a man think," said Bruno.
Roma tried to rise. She could not. Then she tried to cry out something,
but her tongue clave to the roof of her mouth. Would Bruno break down at
the last moment?
Bruno, whose face was convulsed with agony, began to laugh in a
delirious way. "So my friend is false to me, is he? Very well, I'll be
revenged."
He reeled a little and the letter dropped from his hand, floated a
moment in the air, and fell to the ground a pace or two farther on.
"Yes, by God, I'll be revenged," he cried, and he laughed again.
He stopped, lifted one leg, seemed to pull at his boot, and again stood
erect.
"I always knew the hour would come when I should find myself in a tight
place, and I've always kept something about me to help me to get out of
it. Here it is now."
In an instant, before any one could be aware of what he was doing, he
had uncorked a small bottle which he held in his hand and swallowed the
contents.
"Long live David Rossi!" he cried, and he flung the empty bottle over
his head.
Everybody was on his feet in a moment. It was too late. In thirty
seconds the poison had begun its work, and Bruno was reeling in the arms
of the Carabineers. Somebody called for a doctor. Somebody else called
for a priest.
"That's all right," said Bruno. "God is a good old saint. He'll look
after a poor devil like me." Then he began to sing:-"The tombs are uncovered,
The dead arise,
The martyrs are rising
Before our eyes."
"Long live David Rossi!" he cried again, and at the next moment he was
being carried out of court.