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--"

"Eh! Eh Signor Dottore that 'will not help me. I am dying. You do not know. I have never told you. Cancer Signor--a bad cancer. I shall die."

"I may be able to--"

"No, I do not want that. They would put me in prison. Let me die. The young Signor said I would die. It is foolish to live. I will go to my Padrona and explain."

"Then you did shoot the Colonel, Petronella?"

"Si! Si!" the old woman coughed, "he was a devil-man. He was cruel to my padrona, to the young Signor. Also he had the evil eye. Hard to kill. Oh, yes," she chuckled, "but the silver bullet--ah yes the silver bullet." Dr. Jim looked at her in silence. He wondered that he had not suspected Petronella before. After Bess had told him about the bullet, he had been certain that the person who had fired the shot, was of a superstitious nature. Mrs. Marsh being Italian might have thought of the same thing. But she was educated, and above such folly. Petronella, a woman of the people with feudal instincts, had clung to that wild belief of the Middle Ages. She was the one person of Dr. Jim's acquaintances, who would have dreamed of such a thing, and her, he had not suspected.

"Why did you use a silver bullet Petronella?"

"Eh! the man was a diavolo--a witch creature--he had the evil eye. Did I not meet with an accident after he had over-looked me. It was better he should die, rather than live to ruin the Signora. A silver bullet. Only in that way Signor can those aided by the devil perish. I am not sorry. No. It was a good deed. The young Signor said so."

"All the same Petronella I must tell you that Frisco is accused of this murder. He is in prison. It is unfair that he should suffer for what you have done, so you must make confession."

"I have done so Signor Dottore. I wrote with my own hand in my own language, that I Petronella had slain this devil-man with a silver bullet."

"Even so," said Herrick, "but I want to write down your confession myself. You can sign it and the police officer can witness it. Thus, will the man who is in prison for your crime be saved."

"The police," echoed Petronella, "ah, I knew they would come. But they will not put me in prison Signor. I die. I die, and that soon. Eh! as you will. You have been good to me. I will do what you want. Yonder in the corner Signor--the padrona's ink and pen--also the paper. Write down what I say, and I will sign. What does it matter now I die."

Dr. Jim found the materials and placing them on the little round table looked at Petronella. She nodded and muttered a prayer, then began to speak in her usual rapid manner. She spoke in Italian, but Dr. Jim for the benefit of Bridge translated it into English. Luckily Herrick was an excellent linguist and found no difficulty in doing this.

"Signor," began Petronella, "it happened in this way. I was at the house of that devil-man with the Signora--oh a long time ago. The padrona went to ask him for money. He refused, the cursed robber,--and we were so poor--so poor. My signora the last of a great race, poor. Gran' Dio. It was evil that she should be poor. But the devil-man would give not one lira. Ah no! He kept all. I was angered, because of my padrona. I saw on the table a cup of silver, and that I took."

"You stole the cup?"

"Why not. My padrona was poor. That devil-man saw me, he struck me--yes, even me Petronella a free Italian. And he over-looked me with his evil eye. I shuddered. I knew that I would have an accident. And the next day I hurt myself. Ah the wicked wretch. I gave back the cup, as he made me. But when we went down the stairs I took another of silver. This time he saw me not, and I carried it here under my shawl."

"What did Mrs. Marsh say?"

"My padrona was angry. But I did not care. I did not sell the silver cup as she was angered, but I kept it, yes, for the silver bullet--"

Herrick looked up from his writing. "Had you made up your mind then to kill Colonel Carr?" he asked.

"No, not then. I should have liked to: because he cast on me the evil eye. Ah Dio mio I made horns, but it was no use. I had an accident. No Signor Dottore I did not wish to kill him then--very much. Later on when the will--the will--"

"Did you know about the will?"

"Si! Si! It was that Frisco told me. I was in the market. He also, and he had the wine in him. He talked foolishly, and said that his Signor would make another will leaving all the money to him. I saw that my poor padrona and the young Signor Stefano would be ruined. I came back and told the Signora. She was angered. Then she said she would go to see this devil-man. Signor," here Petronella clutched Herrick by the wrist, "I knew that my padrona had a temper. She could rage. I feared what she might do. I watched---eh! yes, I watched. She was to dine with the padre at Saxham, and then see the wicked Signor."

"Did you not know she would see him in the afternoon?"

"No! She said she would go about nine and see him. That after his dinner he would be in a good temper and might not do this wrong. Signor, I saw that she took with her a pistol."

"The revolver of Mr. Marsh?"

"Si! Si! She took it from the case in the room of the young Signor Stefano. I saw her. I knew that if the devil-man laughed at her she would kill him. Yes. She would."

"No, Petronella," said Dr. Jim soothingly, "she only meant to frighten him. So she said in the letter you gave me."

"No Signor," replied the old woman indignantly, "the daughter of the Micholotti would not be so weak. She would have killed him."

"Upon my soul," muttered Herrick, "I believe she would."

"I was in great alarm Signor," went on Petronella. "I thought if she did so, that she would be put in prison. It was terrible to think so. I was angered against the devil-man. He had struck me; he had looked upon me with the evil eye. Now he would tempt my Signora to kill him and so be put in prison. I saw that all would be lost. Then I said to myself, to me Petronella, that I would kill him alone."

The old woman drew herself up in bed, and looked majestic as she spoke. Herrick was profoundly sorry for her. She had carried her feudal instinct to excess, and so had jeopardised her life for the sake of her mistress. He understood well how she had been urged to this. The blow, the evil eye, the possibility of her young master being ruined by another will, and above all, the chance that her Signora might kill the man herself--a fiery faithful creature like Petronella could not let such things be. As she said, she made up her mind to kill Carr, before Mrs. Marsh could see him. Where she made the mistake was, that she thought her mistress would see the man at night. As a matter of fact she did, but already had seen him in the day. Perhaps Mrs. Marsh guessed what Petronella might do, and she had told a falsehood about the time of calling at "The Pines."

"When the Signora departed," said Petronella, rocking to and fro, for she was in pain, "I got my pistol. Si, Signor, it was the pistol of my husband. He fought for the King when we freed Italy. I too, was in the war. I shot many--oh many. He showed me; I was not afraid to shoot."

"This piece of information showed Herrick how it was Carr had been shot through the heart. Petronella, having been in the Italian war of liberation, knew how to handle firearms. Probably she was an excellent markswoman. The shooting of Carr proved her to be so.

"I had bullets," said Petronella, "but they were of lead. I knew that the devil man protected by the Wicked One, could not be slain by only a leaden bullet. I wanted a silver one. Ah Gran' Dio! there was no silver in this house. Then I thought of the cup I had taken. I got it and melted it down over a big fire. I made three bullets in the mould of my husband. I took his powder flask, but it was empty. The young Signor Stefano had powder in his room--I stole it. Then I loaded the pistol and set it aside till the night."

"Where was Mr. Marsh all this time?" asked Herrick.

"He was in the house in the afternoon, and went to eat with a friend of his, Signor Barker--"

"The newspaper editor," said Dr. Jim. He remembered that this was the man who looked after the Beorminster Chronicle and took an interest in Stephen's poetry, "he dined with him?"

"Si Signor, and said he would not be back till late. He was to bring home the Signora from Saxham. I was all alone and I saw what I could do."

"And what did you do Petronella?"

"I hid the pistol in my shawl and walked to Saxham. I got there before eight. I went to the big house, I found it empty. I climbed the stair where I knew the devil man would be in the tower. He was standing by his bed dressed to eat. He took up a pistol but let it down when he saw it was only old Petronella."

"You mean he still held the pistol?"

"Yes. I waited for a moment as he stared at me, and then shot him. I aimed for the heart," said Petronella hugging her knees. "The silver bullet went through the heart. Oh, my husband showed me how to shoot Signor."

"What did you do then?"

"I made sure the devil-man was dead. He fell on his face. Then I went down the stairs. I saw someone, I did not know who it was. But the young Signor told me he was there. I ran through the pine wood, and he followed, I hid behind a tree, and then after a time I got home. No one knew that I had been out, and when the Signora and the young Signor Stefano came back I said nothing. The Signora looked white. She said nothing to me but I knew that she had seen the devil-man. What did I care. She could not kill him again. That is all Signor."

"You lost the pistol?"

"I lost my husband's pistol," said Petronella precisely, "it dropped from my pocket when I ran, I did not care. No one would know that it belonged to me. Then I heard Fris............