To Storace, who had been appointed to defend him, and who now begged to be allowed to do what he could, Joachim replied: “You cannot save my life. Allow me to save my dignity. I forbid you to speak in my defence.” Storace, who, with Stratti and Nunziante, appears as one of the three rays of human light in the whole horrid affair, left him sadly, as the magistrate entered and with gusto proceeded to torment the victim with questions. But he did not get very far before Joachim turned upon him. “I am Joachim Murat,” he replied, “King of the Two Sicilies and your King. Leave me and relieve my prison of your presence!” It seems to have occurred to him that, possibly, Ferdinand was revenging himself now for the murder of the Duc d’Enghien—for he mentioned the tragedy and swore to Stratti that he had had no hand in it. He had been Governor of Paris when the young Duke was kidnapped and shot, but he could have done nothing to save him. Murat was speaking the truth. The Duc d’Enghien was murdered by Talleyrand, who devised the whole affair and drove Napoleon into giving the order by suggesting the result of it upon the Royalists who had, then, made several attempts upon the First Consul’s life. Murat then thanked Stratti for his kindness and begged to be left alone, when he crossed his arms on his breast and stared at the portraits of his family. His first notice of the sentence which had been pronounced upon him came through a priest, whose name was Masdea. The latter, as he told Joachim, had had cause to be grateful to him in the past for some unexpected help in the building of a Church, and it was that which had induced him to brave the displeasure of Joachim’s enemies now. He assured Joachim that his prayers would be offered up for the repose of his soul, and begged him to prepare himself as a Christian to appear before his Maker; and Joachim did so, Masdea says, with philosophic resignation. The “Court” by now had its sentence ready: “Joachim Murat, by the fortune of arms, having returned into that private life in which he was born, and having ventured with twenty-eight comrades to attempt this rash enterprise, not trusting to the force of arms [this, by the way, seems to be a queer sort of grievance] but to rebellion, has excited the people to rise against the lawful sovereign, endeavoured to revolutionise the Kingdom and Italy, and is therefore condemned to die as a public enemy, by the law made during the Decennium, and which is still maintained in full vigour.” Joachim seemed to be very little interested in the reading of his doom. Except for an occasional glance of cold contempt, he paid no attention to the herald or his message. Then he was led down some stone steps into a sort of court, which may be seen to this day, and placed against the wall on the left of the foot of the stairs.