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“That you don’t want to believe it! I understand. But look here,” said he,
opening his shirt and showing me a blue mark imprinted on his skin, above the
sixth rib on the right side, “will you believe in that?”

“Indeed,” exclaimed I, “that is exactly the spot where your brother received
the fatal bullet!”

“And the bullet went out here,” continued he, putting his finger above the
left hip.

“That’s miraculous!” cried I.

“And now,” continued he, “will you permit me to tell you at what hour he
died?”

“Speak!”

“At ten minutes past nine.”

“Look here, Lucien, tell me all at once, my mind grows confused with
questioning you and listening to your incredible answers. I like a narration
better.”

“Ah! that will be very simple. The day on which my brother was killed, I had
gone out early in the morning on horseback; I was visiting our shepherds near
Carboni; when, after having looked at my watch, and just while I was putting it
in my pocket, I received such a violent blow on my side that I fainted. When I
opened my eyes, I was lying in Orlandini’s arms, who was bathing my face with
water. My horse was standing near, with his nose pointed towards me, blowing and
snuffing.

“‘Well,’ said he, ‘what has happened to you?’

“Oh!” replied I, “I don’t know myself; but did you not hear the report of
fire-arms?

“‘No.’

“It appeared to me as if I had received a bullet here,—and I showed him the
place where I felt the pain.

“‘First,’ said he, ‘there has not been a gun nor a pistol fired off in this
neighborhood; and then you have no hole in your coat.’

“Then,” replied I, “my brother has been killed.”

“‘Oh!’ exclaimed he, ‘that’s another thing.’

“I opened my coat and found the mark which I have shown you awhile ago. Only
then it was fresh as if it was bleeding.

“For a moment I was unable to return to Sullacaro, so much had the double
moral and physical pain I felt, affected me; I thought of my mother, she
expected me home to supper; I would then have had to explain to her a
circumstance which I felt unable to do. For I did not wish, without further
proof, to announce to her the death of my brother.

“I therefore continued my ride, and did not come home until six o’clock in
the evening.

“My poor mother received me as usual; it was evident she did not suspect any
thing. Soon after supper I retired to my room.

“In passing through the corridor, which you must recollect, the wind blew my
candle out. I was going down stairs to light it again, when through the crevice
of the door, I saw a light in my brother’s room.

“I thought Griffo had had some business in that room, and had probably
forgotten to take the light away.

“I pushed open the door; a wax taper was burning near my brother’s bed, and
on the bed my brother was lying naked and bloody.

“I confess, for a moment I remained struck with terror. I then approached and
touched him, he was already cold.

“He had received a bullet through his body, in the same place where I had
felt the pain, and a few drops of blood fell from the purple lips of the wound.

“I was now sure that my brother had been killed.

“I threw myself on my knees, and leaning my head on the bed, shut my eyes and
murmured a prayer.

“When I opened my eyes again, I was in the most profound obscurity; the wax
taper was extinguished, and the vision had disappeared.

“I felt the bed, it was empty.

“I consider myself as brave as any body else, but I must confess that when I
left the room, groping in the dark, my hair stood upright and my brow was
covered with sweat.

“I went down stairs to procure another light; my mother saw me, and uttered a
cry.

“‘What is the matter with you,’ said she, ‘why are you so pale?’

“Nothing, replied I, and taking another light I went up stairs again.