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Updated: April 30, 2025
Fernando Briga, then a lad of fifteen or sixteen, had attended his father in prison during Emilio Verna's last hours, and the latter, perhaps aware of the lad's liberal sympathies, had found an opportunity of giving him the letter. But why had Briga given it up to the warder? That was the puzzling question. The docket said: "Given by Doctor Briga's son" but it might mean "taken from."
I began, I believe, by reproaching her with having led me on; and when she defended herself, I retaliated by taunting her with Briga's indifference.
If I had not been on the alert I should have seen no hint of emotion. For a while she looked fixedly at the back of the letter; then she raised her eyes to mine. "Can you tell me who wrote this?" she asked. Her composure irritated me. She had rallied all her forces to Briga's defence, and I felt as though my triumph were slipping from me. "Probably one of the clerks of the archives," I answered.
My sentiment was perhaps not a strictly honorable one; yet what could I do but give the letter to Donna Candida? To keep it back was out of the question; and with the best will in the world I could not have erased Briga's name from the back. The mistake I made was in thinking it lucky that the paper had fallen into my hands. Donna Candida was alone when I entered.
In those days there were traitors under every coat, and more than one brave fellow had been sold to the police by his best friend....You will say that Briga's record was unblemished, that he had exposed himself to danger too frequently, had stood by his friends too steadfastly, to permit of a rational doubt of his good faith.
I stood listening, fascinated by the rapidity and skill with which she had built up the hypothesis of Briga's defence. But before she ended a strange thing happened her argument had convinced me. It seemed to me quite likely that Briga had in fact been actuated by the motives she suggested. I suppose she read the admission in my face, for hers lit up victoriously. "You see?" she exclaimed.
It was the year of Menotti's conspiracy, and everything connected with that date was thrilling. I loosened the band and ran over the letters. Suddenly I came across one which was docketed: "Given by Doctor Briga's son to the warder of His Highness's prisons." Doctor Briga's son? That could be no other than Fernando: I knew he was an only child.
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