Part 54

"Now, missy, what had you to do with Captain Mosca's headpiece?"

"Nothing, my lord."

"What!" he roared. "Did you not cut it off?"

"No, my lord."

"Why not, girl? He was your enemy, I suppose?"

"I think he was, my lord."

"Think! Do you not know it? What did he want of you?"

"He wanted to make me bad, my lord."

"Ah! So you stabbed him, eh?"

"No, my lord."

"Come now, come now, girl. Look at your frock."

She did look and was silent.

"Well!" Borso continued, after a sharp glance at Angioletto. "Did your husband cut it off?"

"No, my lord, he wasn't there--but--"

"Well--but what?"

"He would have killed him, my lord."

"Oh, the devil he would! Why?"

"Because he loves me, my lord."

"H'm. Well, Miss Bellaroba, where's your hand?"

She held it out. "Here, sir."

"What a little one! Well, put it on your heart. Now, how does it feel?"

"It jumps, my lord."

"Does it burn you, child?"

"No, my lord; it's quite cold."

"Stand down, Bellaroba. Castaneve, come forward."

His face just now was a sight to be seen--crumpled, infinitely prim, crow-footed like an ivied wall; but extraordinarily wise; with that tempered resolve which says, "I know Evil and I know Good, and dare be just to either." He was thinking profoundly; every one could see it. Best of the company before him Angioletto, the little Tuscan, read his thought. His own was, "Unless I fear Justice I need not fear Borso. Dante saw the death of his lady to be just. Courage then!"

"Mistress Castaneve," said Duke Borso, "you declare yourself innocent?"

"Excellency, I do, I do! Ah, Mother of God!" The panic was creeping up Olimpia's legs, to loosen the joints of her knees.