taken back to my prison, where I spent a wretched day, always fervently
wishing that a link between the deceased and the "red-cloak" might be
discovered. Full of hope, I entered the Court of Justice the next day.
Several letters were lying upon the table. The old Senator asked me
whether they were in my hand-writing. I looked at them and noticed that
they must have been written by the same hand as the other two papers
which I had received. I communicated this to the Senators, but no
attention was paid to it, and they told me that I might have written
both, for the signature of the letters was undoubtedly a Z., the first
letter of my name. The letters, however, contained threats against the
deceased, and warnings against the marriage which she was about to
contract.

The Governor seemed to have given extraordinary information concerning
me, for I was treated with more suspicion and rigor on this day. I
referred, to justify myself, to my papers which must be in my room, but
was told they had been looked for without success. Thus at the
conclusion of this sitting all hope vanished, and on being brought into
the Court the third day, judgment was pronounced on me. I was convicted
of wilful murder and condemned to death. Things had come to such a pass!
Deserted by all that was precious to me upon earth, far away from home,
I was to die innocently in the bloom of my life.

On the evening of this terrible day which had decided my fate, I was
sitting in my lonely cell, my hopes were gone, my thoughts steadfastly
fixed upon death, when the door of my prison opened, and in came a man,
who for a long time looked at me silently. "Is it thus I find you again,
Zaleukos?" he said. I had not recognized him by the dim light of my
lamp, but the sound of his voice roused in me old remembrances. It was
Valetti, one of those few friends whose acquaintance I made in the city