They came, and were cross-questioned as closely as possible, but they declared that they had not been in that part of the house all day long, and that nobody could possibly get into the house without their knowledge, unless it was through the garden. The priest had been walking all the time in view of the house, and he felt convinced that the murderer could not have passed in or out on that side without his knowledge.
"Listen to me; some person has been into that room since dinner, and your master is cruelly murdered."
"Murdered!" cried the three domestics in tones of terror and amazement; "did your reverence say 'murdered'?"
"He lies where I left him, but his throat is gashed from ear to ear—he is dead. My poor old friend!"
"Dead! the poor master dead, murdered in his own house."
They wrung their hands, tore their hair, and wept aloud.
"Silence! I command you; and consider that every one of us standing here is liable to the suspicion of complicity in this foul deed; so look to it. Giuseppe was asleep."
