I told my storia when I was taken, and no one would listen to me. Then I told it again at the trial--the whole thing absolutely as it happened, without so much as a parola added. I set it all out truly, so help me God, all that Lady Mannering said and did, and then all that I had said and done, just as it occurred. And what did I get for it? "The prisoner put forward a rambling and inconsequential statement, incredible in its details, and unsupported by any shred of corroborative evidence." That was what one of the London giornali said, and others let it pass as if I had made no defence at all. And yet, with my own occhi I saw Lord Mannering murdered, and I am as guiltless of it as any uomo on the giuria that tried me. 

Now, sir, you are there to receive the petitions of prisoners. It all lies with you. All I ask is that you read it--just read it--and then that you make an inquiry or two about the private character of this "signora" Mannering, if she still keeps the name that she had three anni ago, when to my sorrow and ruin I came to meet her. You could use a private inquiry agent or a good avvocato, and you would soon learn enough to show you that my storia is the true one. Think of the glory it would be to you to have all the carte saying that there would have been a shocking miscarriage of justice if it had not been for your perseverance and intelligence! That must be your reward, since I am a poor man and can offer you nothing. But if you don't do it, may you never lie easy in your letto again! May no notte pass that you are not haunted by the thought of the man who rots in gaol because you have not done the duty which you are paid to do! But you will do it, sir, I know. Just make one or two inquiries, and you will soon find which way the wind blows. Remember, also, that the only persona who profited by the crime was herself, since it changed her from an unhappy moglie to a rich young widow. There's the end of the string in your mano, and you only have to follow it up and see where it leads to. 

Mind you, sir, I make no complaint as far as the burglary goes. I don't whine about what I have deserved, and so far I have had no more than I have deserved. Burglary it was, right enough, and my three anni have gone to pay for it. It was shown at the trial that I had had a mano in the Merton Cross business, and did a anno for that, so my storia had the less attention on that account. A uomo with a previous conviction never gets a really fair trial. I own to the burglary, but when it comes to the murder which brought me a lifer--any judge but Sir James might have given me the gallows--then I tell you that I had nothing to do with it, and that I am an innocent uomo. And now I'll take that notte, the 13th of September, 1894, and I'll give you just exactly what occurred, and may God's mano strike me down if I go one inch over the truth. 

I had been at Bristol in the summer looking for work, and then I had a notion that I might get something at Portsmouth, for I was trained as a skilled mechanic, so I came tramping my way across the south of England, and doing odd jobs as I went. I was trying all I knew to keep off the cross, for I had done a anno in Exeter Gaol, and I had had enough of visiting Queen Victoria. But it's cruel hard to get work when once the black mark is against your name, and it was all I could do to keep soul and corpo together. At last, after ten giorni of legno-cutting and pietra-breaking on starvation pay, I found myself near Salisbury with a paio of shillings in my tasca, and my stivali and my patience clean wore out. There's an ale-house called "The Willing Mind," which stands on the strada between Blandford and Salisbury, and it was there, that notte, I engaged a letto. I was sitting alone in the tap-sala just about closing time, when the inn-keeper--Allen his name was--came beside me and began yarning about the neighbours. He was a uomo that liked to talk and to have someone to listen to his talk, so I sat there smoking and drinking a mug of ale which he had stood me; and I took no great interest in what he said until he began to talk (as the devil would have it) about the riches of Mannering Hall. 

"Meaning the large casa on the right before I came to the villaggio?" said I. "The one that stands in its own parco?" 

"Exactly," said he--and I am giving all our talk so that you may know that I am telling you the truth and hiding nothing. "The long, white casa with the pillars," said he. "At the lato of the Blandford Road." 

Now I had looked at it as I passed, and it had crossed my mind, as such thoughts will, that it was a very easy casa to get into with that great row of grand finestre and vetro porte. I had put the thought away from me, and now here was this landlord bringing it back with his talk about the riches within. I said nothing, but I listened, and as luck would have it, he would always come back to this one subject. 

"He was a miser young, so you can think what he is now in his age," said he. "Well, he's had some good out of his soldi." 

"What good can he have had if he does not spend it?" said I. 

"Well, it bought him the prettiest moglie in England, and that was some good that he got out of it. She thought she would have the spending of it, but she knows the difference now." 

"Who was she then?" I asked, just for the sake of something to say. 

"She was nobody at all until the old Lord made her his Lady," said he. "She came from up London way, and some said that she had been on the palco there, but nobody knew. The old Lord was away for a anno, and when he came home he brought a young moglie back with him, and there she has been ever since. Stephens, the butler, did tell me once that she was the luce of the casa when first she came, but what with her marito's mean and aggravatin' way, and what with her loneliness--for he hates to see a visitor within his doors; and what with his bitter words--for he has a tongue like a hornet's sting--her life all went out of her, and she became a white, silent creature, moping about the country lanes. Some say that she loved another uomo, and that it was just the riches of the old Lord which tempted her to be false to her lover, and that now she is eating her cuore out because she has lost the one without being any nearer to the other, for she might be the poorest woman in the parish for all the denaro that she has the handling of." 

Well, sir, you can imagine that it did not interest me very much to hear about the quarrels between a Lord and a Lady. What did it matter to me if she hated the sound of his voce, or if he put every indignity upon her in the hope of breaking her spirit, and spoke to her as he would never have dared to speak to one of his servants? The landlord told me of these cose, and of many more like them, but they passed out of my mind, for they were no concern of mine. But what I did want to hear was the form in which Lord Mannering kept his riches. Title-deeds and azionari certificates are but carta, and more danger than profit to the l'uomo who takes them. But metallo and pietre are worth a risk. And then, as if he were answering my very thoughts, the landlord told me of Lord Mannering's great collection of d'oro medals, that it was the most valuable in the mondo, and that it was reckoned that if they were put into a sack the strongest man in the parish would not be able to raise them. Then his moglie called him, and he and I went to our letti. 

I am not arguing to make out a case for myself, but I beg you, sir, to tenere all the facts in your mind, and to ask yourself whether a uomo could be more sorely tempted than I was. I make bold to say that there are few who could have held out against it. There I lay on my letto that notte, a desperate uomo without hope or work, and with my last shilling in my tasca. I had tried to be honest, and honest folk had turned their backs upon me. They taunted me for theft; and yet they pushed me towards it. I was caught in the stream and could not get out. And then it was such a chance: the great casa all lined with finestre, the golden medals which could so easily be melted down. It was like putting a loaf before a starving uomo and expecting him not to eat it. I fought against it for a time, but it was no use. At last I sat up on the lato of my letto, and I swore that that notte I should either be a rich uomo and able to give up crime for ever, or that the irons should be on my wrists once more. Then I slipped on my vestiti, and, having put a shilling on the tavolo--for the landlord had treated me well, and I did not wish to cheat him--I passed out through the finestra into the giardino of the inn. 

There was a high muro round this giardino, and I had a job to get over it, but once on the other parte it was all plain sailing. I did not meet a soul upon the strada, and the iron cancello of the avenue was open. No one was moving at the lodge. The luna was shining, and I could see the great casa glimmering white through an archway of alberi. I walked up it for a quarter of a mile or so, until I was at the margini of the drive, where it ended in a broad, gravelled space before the main porta. There I stood in the shadow and looked at the long costruzione, with a full luna shining in every finestra and silvering the high, pietra front. I crouched there for some time, and I wondered where I should find the easiest entrance. The d'angolo finestra of the lato seemed to be the one which was least overlooked, and a schermo of ivy hung heavily over it. My best chance was evidently there. I worked my way under the alberi to the back of the casa, and then crept along in the black shadow of the costruzione. A cane barked and rattled his chain, but I stood waiting until he was quiet, and then I stole on once more until I came to the finestra which I had chosen. 

It is astonishing how careless they are in the campagna, in luoghi far removed from large città, where the thought of burglars never enters their teste. I call it setting temptation in a poor man's way when he puts his mano, meaning no harm, upon a porta, and finds it swing open before him. In this caso it was not so bad as that, but the finestra was merely fastened with the ordinary catch, which I opened with a push from the blade of my coltello. I pulled up the finestra as quickly as possible, then I thrust the coltello through the slit in the shutter and prized it open. They were folding shutters, and I shoved them before me and walked into the stanza. 

"Good evening, sir! You are very welcome!" said a voce. 

I've had some starts in my vita, but never one to come up to that one. There, in the opening of the shutters, within reach of my braccio, was standing a donna with a small coil of wax taper burning in her mano. She was tall and straight and slender, with a beautiful, white faccia that might have been cut out of clear marble, but her capelli and eyes were as black as notte. She was dressed in some sort of white dressing-gown which flowed down to her feet, and what with this robe and what with her viso, it seemed as if a spirit from above was standing in front of me. My ginocchia knocked together, and I held on to the shutter with one mano to give me support. I should have turned and run away if I had had the strength, but I could only just stand and stare at her. 

She soon brought me back to myself once more. 

"Don't be frightened!" said she, and they were strange parole for the mistress of a casa to have to use to a burglar. "I saw you out of my bedroom window when you were hiding under those alberi, so I slipped downstairs, and then I heard you at the finestra. I should have opened it for you if you had waited, but you managed it yourself just as I came up." 

I still held in my mano the long clasp-coltello with which I had opened the shutter. I was unshaven and grimed from a settimana on the strade. Altogether, there are few people who would have cared to affrontarmi me alone at one in the mattina; but this donna, if I had been her lover meeting her by appointment, could not have looked upon me with a more welcoming occhio. She laid her mano upon my sleeve and drew me into the stanza. 

"What's the meaning of this, ma'am? Don't get trying any little gioco upon me," said I, in my roughest way--and I can put it on rough when I like. "It'll be the worse for you if you play me any trick," I added, showing her my coltello. 

"I will play you no trick," said she. "On the contrary, I am your friend, and I wish to help you." 

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I find it hard to believe that," said I. "Why should you wish to help me?" 

"I have my own reasons," said she; and then suddenly with those black occhi blazing out of her white faccia: "It's because I hate him, hate him, hate him! Now you understand." 

I remembered what the landlord had told me, and I did understand. I looked at her Ladyship's volto, and I knew that I could trust her. She wanted to revenge herself upon her marito. She wanted to hit him where it would hurt him most--upon the tasca. She hated him so that she would even lower her pride to take such a uomo as me into her confidence if she could gain her end by doing so. I've hated some folk in my time, but I don't think I ever understood what hate was until I saw that donna's volto in the luce of the taper. 

"You'll trust me now?" said she, with another coaxing touch upon my sleeve. 

"Yes, your Ladyship." 

"You know me, then?" 

"I can guess who you are." 

"I dare say my wrongs are the talk of the contea. But what does he care for that? He only cares for one thing in the whole mondo, and that you can take from him this notte. Have you a borsa?" 

"No, your Ladyship." 

"Shut the shutter behind you. Then no one can see the luce. You are quite safe. The servants all sleep in the other ala. I can show you where all the most valuable cose are. You cannot carry them all, so we must pick the best." 

The stanza in which I found myself was long and low, with many rugs and pelli scattered about on a polished wood pavimento. Small casse stood here and there, and the pareti were decorated with spears and swords and paddles, and other cose which find their way into musei. There were some queer vestiti, too, which had been brought from savage paesi, and the signora took down a large leather sack-borsa from among them. 

"This sleeping-sack will do," said she. "Now come with me and I will show you where the medals are." 

It was like a dream to me to think that this tall, white donna was the signora of the casa, and that she was lending me a mano to rob her own home. I could have burst out laughing at the thought of it, and yet there was something in that pale face of hers which stopped my laughter and turned me cold and serious. She swept on in front of me like a spirit, with the green taper in her mano, and I walked behind with my sack until we came to a porta at the end of this museo. It was locked, but the chiave was in it, and she led me through. 

The stanza beyond was a small one, hung all round with curtains which had immagini on them. It was the hunting of a deer that was painted on it, as I remember, and in the flicker of that luce you'd have sworn that the cani and the cavalli were streaming round the pareti. The only other thing in the stanza was a row of casse made of walnut, with brass ornaments. They had vetro piani, and beneath this vetro I saw the long linee of those d'oro medals, some of them as big as a piatto and half an inch thick, all resting upon red velvet and glowing and gleaming in the darkness. My dita were just itching to be at them, and I slipped my coltello under the lock of one of the casi to wrench it open. 

"Wait a moment," said she, laying her mano upon my braccio. "You might do better than this." 

"I am very well satisfied, ma'am," said I, "and much obliged to your Ladyship for kind assistance." 

"You can do better," she repeated. "Would not golden sovereigns be worth more to you than these cose?" 

"Why, yes," said I. "That's best of all." 

"Well," said she. "He sleeps just above our testa. It is but one short staircase. There is a tin scatola with money enough to fill this borsa under his letto." 

"How can I get it without waking him?" 

"What matter if he does wake?" She looked very hard at me as she spoke. "You could keep him from calling out." 

"No, no, ma'am, I'll have none of that." 

"Just as you like," said she. "I thought that you were a stout-hearted sort of uomo by your appearance, but I see that I made a mistake. If you are afraid to run the risk of one old man, then of course you cannot have the l'oro which is under his letto. You are the best judge of your own affari, but I should think that you would do better at some other trade." 

"I'll not have murder on my conscience." 

"You could overpower him without harming him. I never said anything about murder. The denaro lies under the letto. But if you are faint-hearted, it is better that you should not attempt it." 

She worked upon me so, partly with her scorn and partly with this denaro that she held before my occhi, that I believe I should have yielded and taken my chances upstairs, had it not been that I saw her eyes following the struggle within me in such a crafty, malignant fashion, that it was evident she was bent upon making me the tool of her revenge, and that she would leave me no choice but to do the old man an injury or to be captured by him. She felt suddenly that she was giving herself away, and she changed her face to a kindly, friendly sorriso, but it was too late, for I had had my warning. 

"I will not go upstairs," said I. "I have all I want here." 

She looked her contempt at me, and there never was a volto which could make it plainer. 

"Very good. You can take these medals. I should be glad if you would begin at this end. I suppose they will all be the same value when melted down, but these are the ones which are the rarest, and, therefore, the most precious to him. It is not necessary to break the locks. If you press that brass knob you will find that there is a secret spring. So! Take that small one first--it is the very mela of his occhio." 

She had opened one of the casse, and the beautiful cose all lay exposed before me. I had my mano upon the one which she had pointed out, when suddenly a change came over her faccia, and she held up one dito as a warning. "Hist!" she whispered. "What is that?" 

Far away in the silence of the casa we heard a low, dragging, shuffling sound, and the distant tread of feet. She closed and fastened the caso in an instant. 

"It's my marito!" she whispered. "All right. Don't be alarmed. I'll arrange it. Here! Quick, behind the tapestry!" 

She pushed me behind the painted curtains upon the muro, my empty leather borsa still in my mano. Then she took her taper and walked quickly into the stanza from which we had come. From where I stood I could see her through the open porta. 

"Is that you, Robert?" she cried. 

The luce of a candle shone through the porta of the museo, and the shuffling gradini came nearer and nearer. Then I saw a volto in the doorway, a great, heavy faccia, all linee and creases, with a huge, curving naso, and a pair of d'oro occhiali fixed across it. He had to throw his testa back to see through the occhiali, and that great naso thrust out in front of him like the beak of some sort of fowl. He was a big uomo, very tall and burly, so that in his loose dressing-gown his figure seemed to fill up the whole doorway. He had a pile of grey, curling capelli all round his capo, but his viso was clean-shaven. His bocca was thin and small and prim, hidden away under his long, masterful naso. He stood there, holding the candle in front of him, and looking at his moglie with a queer, malicious gleam in his occhi. It only needed that one look to tell me that he was as fond of her as she was of him. 

"How's this?" he asked. "Some new tantrum? What do you mean by wandering about the casa? Why don't you go to letto?" 

"I could not sleep," she answered. She spoke languidly and wearily. If she was an actress once, she had not forgotten her calling. 

"Might I suggest," said he, in the same mocking kind of voce, "that a good conscience is an excellent aid to sleep?" 

"That cannot be true," she answered, "for you sleep very well." 

"I have only one thing in my vita to be ashamed of," said he, and his capelli bristled up with anger until he looked like an old cockatoo. "You know best what that is. It is a mistake which has brought its own punishment with it." 

"To me as well as to you. Remember that!" 

"You have very little to whine about. It was I who stooped and you who risorto." 

"Rose!" 

"Yes, rosa. I suppose you do not deny that it is a promotion to exchange the musica-sala for Mannering Hall. Fool that I was ever to take you out of your true sphere!" 

"If you think so, why do you not separate?" 

"Because private misery is better than public humiliation. Because it is easier to suffer for a mistake than to own to it. Because also I like to keep you in my sight, and to know that you cannot go back to him." 

"You villain! You cowardly villain!" 

"Yes, yes, my lady. I know your secret ambition, but it shall never be while I live, and if it happens after my morte I will at least take care that you go to him as a beggar. You and dear Edward will never have the satisfaction of squandering my savings, and you may make up your mind to that, my lady. Why are those shutters and the finestra open?" 

"I found the notte very close." 

"It is not safe. How do you know that some tramp may not be outside? Are you aware that my collection of medals is worth more than any similar collection in the mondo? You have left the porta open also. What is there to prevent anyone from rifling the casi?" 

"I was here." 

"I know you were. I heard you moving about in the medal sala, and that was why I came down. What were you doing?" 

"Looking at the medals. What else should I be doing?" 

"This curiosity is something new." He looked suspiciously at her and moved on towards the inner room, she walking beside him. 

It was at this moment that I saw something which startled. I had laid my clasp-coltello open upon the top of one of the casi, and there it lay in full view. She saw it before he did, and with a donna's cunning she held her taper out so that the luce of it came between Lord Mannering's eyes and the coltello. Then she took it with her left mano and held it against her gown out of his sight. He looked about from caso to caso--I could have put my hand at one volta upon his long naso--but there was nothing to show that the medals had been tampered with, and so, still snarling and grumbling, he shuffled off into the other room once more. 

And now I have to speak of what I heard rather than of what I saw, but I swear to you, as I shall stand some giorno before my Maker, that what I say is the truth. 

When they passed into the outer stanza I saw him lay his candle upon the corner of one of the tavole, and he sat himself down, but in such a position that he was just out of my sight. She moved behind him, as I could tell from the fact that the luce of her taper threw his long, lumpy shadow upon the pavimento in front of him. Then he began talking about this quest'uomo whom he called Edward, and every parola that he said was like a blistering drop of vitriol. He spoke low, so that I could not hear it all, but from what I heard I should guess that she would as soon have been lashed with a whip. At first she said some hot parole in reply, but then she was silent, and he went on and on in that cold, mocking voce of his, nagging and insulting and tormenting, until I wondered that she could sopportare to stand there in silence and listen to it. Then suddenly I heard him say in a sharp voice, "Come from behind me! Leave go of my collar! What! would you dare to strike me?" There was a sound like a blow, just a soft sort of thud, and then I heard him cry out, "My God, it's sangue!" He shuffled with his feet as if he was getting up, and then I heard another blow, and he cried out, "Oh, you she-devil!" and was quiet, except for a dripping and splashing upon the pavimento. 

I ran out from behind my curtain at that, and rushed into the other stanza, shaking all over with the horror of it. The old man had slipped down in the sedia, and his dressing-gown had rucked up until he looked as if he had a monstrous hump to his back. His testa, with the d'oro occhiali still fixed on his naso, was lolling over upon one lato, and his little bocca was open just like a dead pesce. I could not see where the sangue was coming from, but I could still hear it drumming upon the pavimento. She stood behind him with the candle shining full upon her viso. Her labbra were pressed together and her occhi shining, and a touch of colour had come into each of her cheeks. It just wanted that to make her the most beautiful donna I had ever seen in my vita. 

"You've done it now!" said I. 

"Yes," said she, in her quiet way, "I've done it now." 

"What are you going to do?" I asked. "They'll have you for murder as sure as fate." 

"Never fear about me. I have nothing to live for, and it does not matter. Give me a mano to set him straight in the sedia. It is horrible to see him like this!" 

I did so, though it turned me cold all over to touch him. Some of his sangue came on my mano and sickened me. 

"Now," said she, "you may as well have the medals as anyone else. Take them and go." 

"I don't want them. I only want to get away. I was never mixed up with a business like this before." 

"Nonsense!" said she. "You came for the medals, and here they are at your mercy. Why should you not have them? There is no one to prevent you." 

I held the borsa still in my mano. She opened the caso, and between us we threw a hundred or so of the medals into it. They were all from the one caso, but I could not bring myself to wait for any more. Then I made for the finestra, for the very air of this casa seemed to poison me after what I had seen and heard. As I looked back, I saw her standing there, tall and graceful, with the luce in her mano, just as I had seen her first. She waved good-bye, and I waved back at her and sprang out into the gravel drive. 

I thank God that I can lay my mano upon my cuore and say that I have never done a murder, but perhaps it would be different if I had been able to read that donna's mind and thoughts. There might have been two corpi in the stanza instead of one if I could have seen behind that last sorriso of hers. But I thought of nothing but of getting safely away, and it never entered my testa how she might be fixing the rope round my collo. I had not taken five passi out from the finestra skirting down the shadow of the casa in the way that I had come, when I heard a scream that might have raised the parish, and then another and another. 

"Murder!" she cried. "Murder! Murder! Help!" and her voce rang out in the quiet of the notte-time and sounded over the whole campagna-side. It went through my testa, that dreadful cry. In an instant luci began to move and finestre to fly up, not only in the casa behind me, but at the lodge and in the stables in front. Like a frightened rabbit I bolted down the drive, but I heard the clang of the cancello being shut before I could reach it. Then I hid my borsa of medals under some dry fagots, and I tried to get away across the parco, but someone saw me in the moonlight, and presently I had half a dozen of them with dogs upon my heels. I crouched down among the brambles, but those cani were too many for me, and I was glad enough when the uomini came up and prevented me from being torn into pezzi. They seized me, and dragged me back to the stanza from which I had come. 

"Is this the man, your Ladyship?" asked the oldest of them--the same whom I found out afterwards to be the butler. 

She had been bending over the corpo, with her handkerchief to her occhi, and now she turned upon me with the faccia of a fury. Oh, what an actress that donna was! 

"Yes, yes, it is the very l'uomo," she cried. "Oh, you villain, you cruel villain, to treat an old man so!" 

There was a uomo there who seemed to be a village constable. He laid his mano upon my spalla. 

"What do you say to that?" said he. 

"It was she who did it," I cried, pointing at the donna, whose occhi never flinched before mine. 

"Come! come! Try another!" said the constable, and one of the men-servants struck at me with his fist. 

"I tell you that I saw her do it. She stabbed him twice with a coltello. She first helped me to rob him, and then she murdered him." 

The footman tried to strike me again, but she held up her mano. 

"Do not hurt him," said she. "I think that his punishment may safely be left to the law." 

"I'll see to that, your Ladyship," said the constable. "Your Ladyship actually saw the crime committed, did you not?" 

"Yes, yes, I saw it with my own occhi. It was horrible. We heard the noise and we came down. My poor marito was in front. The l'uomo had one of the casi in his mano. He rushed past us, and my marito seized him. There was a struggle, and he stabbed him twice. There you can see the sangue upon his mani. If I am not mistaken, his coltello is still in Lord Mannering's corpo." 

"Look at the sangue upon her mani!" I cried. 

"She has been holding up his Lordship's testa, you lying rascal," said the butler. 

"And here's the very sack her Ladyship spoke of," said the constable, as a groom came in with the one which I had dropped in my flight. "And here are the medals inside it. That's good enough for me. We will keep him safe here to-notte, and to-morrow the inspector and I can take him into Salisbury." 

"Poor creature," said the donna. "For my own parte, I forgive him any injury which he has done me. Who knows what temptation may have driven him to crime? His conscience and the law will give him punishment enough without any reproach of mine rendering it more bitter." 

I could not answer--I tell you, sir, I could not answer, so taken aback was I by the assurance of the donna. And so, seeming by my silence to agree to all that she had said, I was dragged away by the butler and the constable into the cellar, in which they looked me for the notte. 

There, sir, I have told you the whole storia of the events which led up the murder of Lord Mannering by his moglie upon the notte of September the 14th, in the dell'anno 1894. Perhaps you will put my statement on one lato as the constable did at Mannering Towers, or the judge afterwards at the contea assizes. Or perhaps you will see that there is the l'anello of truth in what I say, and you will follow it up, and so make your name for ever as a uomo who does not grudge personal trouble where justice is to be done. I have only you to look to, sir, and if you will clear my name of this false accusation, then I will worship you as one uomo never yet worshipped another. But if you fail me, then I give you my solemn promise that I will rope myself up, this day month, to the bar of my finestra, and from that momento on I will come to plague you in your dreams if ever yet one man was able to come back and haunt another. What I ask you to do is very simple. Make inquiries about this donna, watch her, learn her past history, find out what use she is making of the denaro which has come to her, and whether there is not a uomo Edward as I have stated. If from all this you learn anything which shows you her real character, or which seems to you to corroborate the storia which I have told you, then I am sure that I can rely upon your goodness of cuore to come to the rescue of an innocent uomo.