This last consideration recalled to him his
situation, and for a moment he was horrified at his own rashness.
But the thought did not hold him long, and presently he asked
himself apathetically what it could matter in the end. The hours
passed slowly, and still he sat motionless by the table, the
folded letter lying before him.
The cardinal had scarcely returned to his study when a second card
was brought to him. The gentleman, said the servant, had assured
him that his Eminence would receive him, as he had important
information to give concerning the murder of Prince Montevarchi.
The cardinal could not repress a smile as he read the name of
Anastase Gouache.
The young man entered the room, and advanced in obedience to the
cardinal's friendly gesture. He was as pale as death, and his soft
dark eyes had an expression of despair in them such as the great
man had rarely seen. For the rest, he wore his uniform, and was as
carefully dressed as usual.
"Your Eminence has doubtless heard of this dreadful murder?" began
Gouache, forgetting all formality in the extremity of his
excitement.
"Yes," said the cardinal, sitting down. "You have something to
communicate concerning it, I understand."
"Donna Faustina Montevarchi has been charged with the crime, and
is in the prison of the Termini," answered the Zouave, speaking
hurriedly.
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