"Yes. I made her write it down that she killed Carr. It is in Italian but I do not know the language. You must see that it is all right Dr. Jim. I did that because I thought she might die before you arrived. But now that you are here, come up and see her. I will go for Inspector Bridge."
Dr. Jim was aghast. Here was Sidney in a new character. "Why for Bridge?"
"He must hear her confession," said Sidney putting on his hat. "Perhaps she has written down something different in the Italian. I will give you the paper when I come back. But I must go for Bridge," and Sidney, before Herrick could say a word, was out of the room. Dr. Jim heard the front door close behind the boy.
"There is not much insanity about this act," muttered Herrick to himself, I shall see Petronella at once, he smiled grimly, "I wonder who she will accuse," he said.
[CHAPTER XXVI]
THE TRUTH
In the room where Mrs. Marsh had died, and in the same bed, lay the old Italian woman dying also. She was sitting up, with a red woollen shawl wrapped round her bony shoulders, and her lean hands told her rosary. Whatever views Sidney might have instilled into her regarding life beyond the grave, Petronella still remained within the fold of Peter. She was muttering prayer after prayer with feverish haste and the black beads slipped quickly from between her fingers.
The room was dusty, dark and untidy. Near the bed was a bottle of Chianti and some bread, but the flask was full and the loaf untouched. Petronella was past earthly food. Herrick saw the mark of death on her yellow face. She seemed pleased to see him and not at all afraid. Receiving him with a chuckle, she interpreted the look in his eyes.
"So he has told you, that young Signor," she said in her own tongue, "ah! I thought he would. It was time--but too late Signor Dottore--too late for the prison. I go into Purgatory. Ten pounds for masses Signor. You will see that they are said. Then I may get into Paradise to rest. I need rest. All my life I have worked hard. The Good God will not be hard on poor old Petronella."
Dr. Jim took a chair by the bedside, and felt her pulse. "You need nourishing food Petronella," he said soothingly, "a cup of soup now--"