'Yesterday at sunset I was at the gate of the cemetery,' she said. 'This man's brother, who lives at Camaldoli, shot this Don Tebaldo's brother, to whom I was betrothed, and he is buried in the cemetery. Therefore, I go every day to the gate, to visit him. Yesterday Don Francesco came up the road and was speaking to me. He who lies there dead was talking with me but yesterday. God give his soul peace and rest. Then this priest, coming down from Santa Vittoria, fell upon him from behind treacherously, and choked him by the collar, and beat him upon the head, so that he fell down fainting. But certain peasants came by that way and lifted him up and took him into our village, but the priest went down to Camaldoli. This I saw, and this I tell you. And now two Saracinesca have killed two Pagliuca.'
She ceased speaking, and her white hands drew her shawl over her head, for she was in church, where a woman's head should be covered.
'Do you admit the truth of what this girl says?' asked the corporal, turning to Ippolito.
'It is true that I beat Francesco Pagliuca with my hands yesterday afternoon.'
'Do you not admit also that you killed him to-day, in this church, with that knife? Don Tebaldo testifies that he saw you do it.'
The young priest drew himself up to his height, and his clear gaze riveted itself on Tebaldo's half-veiled eyes. The good man faced the bad silently for many seconds.
'Did you testify that you saw me kill your brother?' asked Ippolito, at last.
'I did, and I shall repeat my testimony at the proper time,' answered Tebaldo, steadily.
But under the clear, high innocence that silently gave him the lie, his eyelids dropped more and more, till he looked down.
'Do you admit that you killed him?' asked the corporal again.