Gabriel has been condemned. The news of the high-born Prince of
Brancaleone's death, so young, so handsome, and so universally adored,
not only fluttered the aristocracy of Naples, but excited profound
indignation in all classes of people. He was mourned by everybody, and a
unanimous cry for vengeance was raised against the murderer.

The authorities opened the inquiry with alarming promptness. The
magistrates whom their office called to judge this deplorable affair
displayed, however, the most irreproachable integrity. No consideration
outside their duty, no deference due to so noble and powerful a family,
could shake the convictions of their conscience. History has kept a
record of this memorable trial; and has, no reproach to make to men which
does not apply equally to the imperfection of human laws. The appearance
of things, that fatal contradiction which the genius of evil so often
here on earth gives to truth, overwhelmed the poor fisherman with the
most evident proofs.

Trespolo, in whom fear had destroyed all scruples, being first examined,
as having been the young prince's confidant, declared with cool impudence
that, his master having shown a wish to escape for a few days from the
importunities of a young married lady whose passion was beginning to tire
him, had followed him to the island with three or four of his most
faithful servants, and that he himself had adopted the disguise of a
pilgrim, not wishing to betray his excellency's incognito to the
fisher-people, who would certainly have tormented so powerful a person by
all sorts of petitions. Two local watch men, who had happened to be on
the hillside at the moment of the crime, gave evidence that confirmed the
valet's lengthy statement; hidden by some under wood, they had seen
Gabriel rush upon the prince, and had distinctly heard the last words of
the dying man; calling "Murder!" All the witnesses, even those summoned