girl, or whether I had lost them in my flight. The former seemed indeed
the more likely, and thus I could easily be discovered as the murderer.

At the accustomed hour I opened my vaulted room. My neighbor came in,
as was his wont every morning, for he was a talkative man. "Well," he
said, "what do you say about the terrible affair which has occurred
during the night?" I pretended not to know anything. "What, do you not
know what is known all over the town? Are you not aware that the
loveliest flower in Florence, Bianca, the Governor's daughter, was
murdered last night? I saw her only yesterday driving through the
streets in so cheerful a manner with her intended one, for to-day the
marriage was to have taken place." I felt deeply wounded at each word
of my neighbor. Many a time my torment was renewed, for every one of my
customers told me of the affair, each one more ghastly than the other,
and yet nobody could relate anything more terrible than that which I had
seen myself.

About mid-day a police-officer entered my shop and requested me to send
the people away. "Signor Zaleukos" he said, producing the things which
I had missed, "do these things belong to you?" I was thinking as to
whether I should not entirely repudiate them, but on seeing through the
door, which stood ajar, my landlord and several acquaintances, I
determined not to aggravate the affair by telling a lie, and
acknowledged myself as the owner of the things. The police- officer
asked me to follow him, and led me towards a large building which I soon
recognized as the prison. There he showed me into a room meanwhile.

My situation was terrible, as I thought of it in my solitude. The idea
of having committed a murder, unintentionally, constantly presented
itself to my mind. I also could not conceal from myself that the glitter