The Podestà turned to him in some surprise. It was not often that an ambassador intervened in the trial of a rogue accused of theft and murder. 'At your good pleasure, my lord.' 'With submission, then, may I beg that, considering the identity claimed by this prisoner and the relationship urged with his magnificence the Count of Biandrate, the proceedings against him be suspended until this identity shall have been tested by ordinary means?' The ambassador paused. The Podestà, supreme autocrat of justice, had thrown up his head, resentful of such very definite interference. But before he could answer, the Regent was adding the weight of his support to the Orator's request. 'However unusual this may be, Messer de' Ferraris,' he said, in his quiet, cultured voice, 'you will realise with me that if the prisoner's identity prove to be as he says, and if his present position should be the result of a chain of unfortunate circumstances, we should by proceeding to extremes merely provoke against Montferrat the resentment of our exalted friend the Count of Biandrate.' Thus was it demonstrated to Bellarion how much may hang upon a man's wise choice of a parent. The Podestà bowed his head. There was a moment's silence before he spoke. 'By what means is it proposed that the accused's pretended identity shall be tested?' It was Bellarion who spoke. 'I had a letter from the Abbot of the Grazie of Cigliano, which this Lorenzaccio stole from me, but which the officer ...' 'We have that letter,' the Podestà interrupted, his voice harsh. 'It says nothing of your paternity, and for the rest it can prove nothing until you prove how it was acquired!' 'He claims,' Aliprandi interposed again, 'to come from the Convent of the Grazie of Cigliano, where Messer Facino Cane placed him some years ago. It should not be difficult, nor greatly delay the satisfaction of justice, to seek at the convent confirmation of his tale. If it is confirmed, let one of the fathers who knows him attend here to say whether this is the same man.' The Podestà combed his beard in silence. 'And if so?' he inquired at last. 'Why, then, sir, your mind will be delivered at least of the prejudice created by this young man's association with a bandit. And you will be in better case to judge his share in last night's events.' There, to the general disappointment, ended for the moment the odd affair of Bellarion Cane, which in the disclosures it foreshadowed had promised such unusual entertainment. The Regent remained in court after Bellarion's removal, lest it be supposed that his interest in the administration of justice had been confined to that case alone. But Messer Aliprandi withdrew, as did most of those others who came from the palace, and amongst them, pale and troubled, went the Princess Valeria. To Dionara she vented something of her dismay and anger. 'A thief, a spy, a murderer,' she said. 'And I trusted him that he might ruin all my hopes. I have the wages of a fool.'