The young Italian had by this time fully recovered from the effects of the shock he had received. He arose to his feet, and, approaching Espérance, said, earnestly: "My friend, let the past be forgotten. I was wrong and you were right. I ask your pardon. As to the abduction of this unfortunate girl, I assure you that I am entirely innocent of it!"
"But who fired the shot that killed Lorenzo?" asked Espérance, sternly.
"Killed Lorenzo!" cried Giovanni, with unmistakable horror. "Was Lorenzo killed?"
"He was shot to-night and died in my arms!"
"Oh! this is terrible!" exclaimed the Viscount, beads of cold perspiration breaking out upon his forehead. "I assure you, Espérance, I had no hand in this foul murder--I knew nothing of it! I did hear the report of a pistol, but who discharged the weapon or at whom it was fired I could not tell. Everything seemed like a disordered dream!"
As Espérance said not a word in reply, the Viscount continued: "Again I assert my innocence of the dark crimes that have been committed to-night! Do you not believe my protestation?"
"I know not what to believe," answered the young man. "But I will not consider you guilty until you are proved so."
"Then," cried Giovanni, joyously, "I have a proposition to make to you. Swear that you will be silent about everything that has occurred since we met Annunziata Solara in the Piazza del Popolo, including the terrible events of to-night, and I will start with you for Rome this very instant!"
"And you will renounce your pursuit of the flower-girl?"
"I will renounce it!"
"Do you swear to do so?"
"I swear it!"
"Then, on my side, I here take the oath of silence you require!"
"You forgive me for having quarreled with you?"
"I forgive you!"
"Then let us leave this accursed spot without another moment's delay!"
"So be it!"
They hastily quitted the bank of the little stream and went to the cabin to prepare for their immediate departure. As they passed the spot where Lorenzo's body had lain, Espérance noticed with a start that it was no longer there. They entered the cabin. It was dark and deserted. Espérance lighted a candle and, as he did so, perceived a scrap of paper upon the floor. He stooped mechanically and picked it up. It was rumpled as if it had been crushed in the hand and cast away. The young man straightened it out. It was a brief letter. He held it to the candle and, with a sickening sensation at his heart, read as follows: DEAREST ANNUNZIATA: All is prepared. We will fly to-night. Be ready. TONIO.