“But,” said Gandolfo, “when Don Gaetano rose, he stood so that he could see out over the square. And through the square, through this same square, where now so many people are sitting in happiness and pleasure, a funeral procession was passing. “It was the White Brotherhood carrying the body of the murdered Giannita to her mother’s house. They walked with torches, and the bier, carried on the bearers’ shoulders, was plainly visible. As the procession passed slowly across the market-place, one could recognize the pall spread over the corpse. It was the pall of the Alagonas adorned with a gorgeous coat of arms and rich silver fringes. When Gaetano saw it, he understood that the corpse was of the house of Alagona. His face became ashy gray, and he reeled as if he were going to fall. “At that moment the judge asked him: ‘Do you know the murdered woman?’ And he answered: ‘Yes.’ Then the judge, who was a merciful man, continued: ‘Was she near to you?’ And then Don Gaetano answered: ‘I love her.’” When Gandolfo had come so far in his story, people saw Donna Micaela suddenly rise, as if she had wished to contradict him, but Cavaliere Palmeri drew her quickly down beside him. “Be quiet, be quiet,” he said to her. And she sat quiet with her face hidden in her hands. Now and then her body rocked and she wailed softly. Gandolfo told how the judge, when Gaetano had acknowledged that, had shown him his fellow-prisoners and asked him: “‘If you loved that woman, how can you have anything in common with the men who have murdered her?’” Then Don Gaetano had turned towards the bandits. He had raised his clenched hand and shaken it at them. And he had looked as if he had longed for a dagger, to be able to strike them down one after another. “‘With those!’” he had shouted. “‘Should I have anything in common with those?’” And he had certainly meant to say that he had nothing to do with robbers and murderers. The judge had smiled kindly at him, as if he had only waited for that answer to set him free. But then a divine miracle had happened. And Gandolfo told, how among all the stolen things that lay on the table, there had also been a little Christ image. It was a yard high, richly covered with jewels and adorned with a gold crown and gold shoes. Just at that moment one of the officers bent down to draw the image to him; and as he did so, the crown fell to the floor and rolled all the way to Don Gaetano. Don Gaetano picked up the Christ-crown, held it a moment in his hands and looked at it carefully. It seemed as if he had read something in it. He did not hold it more than one minute. In the next the guard took it from him. Donna Micaela looked up almost frightened. The Christ image! He was there already! Should she so soon get an answer to her prayer? Gandolfo continued: “But when Don Gaetano looked up, every one trembled as at a miracle, for the man was transformed.