student. Something shining, which hung by
his side, and which resembled one of those tin
cases in which the licentiates of the University
of Padua were wont to carry their diplomas,
confirmed the police-agent in the idea that he
was a member of that university. His face was
concealed by a mask, and the darkness
prevented the agent seeing more.

On the reiterated shouts of the police-agent,
a boatman, who was slumbering at the other
side of the canal, on the steps of the Loredano
Palace, got up, rubbing his eyes, and, half asleep,
asked what was the matter. Manego finally made
up his mind to continue the pursuit, but
returned in less than five minutes, saying he had
lost all traces of the man in the crowd near St.
Mark's.

The police-agent, finding the chase was up,
returned to his comrade to draw up an official
report of the transaction. They put the dead
body into a gondola, and conveyed it to the
chief police-office of the St. Pol district, in
which the murder had been committed. All the
police-agents were out on duty to prevent riots
among the maskers, and to keep order. Two
hours elapsed before a small number could be
sent out with the very imperfect description of
the assassin given by the two who witnessed
the crime. There were more than two thousand
students frpm the University of Padua on that
night enjoying themselves at the theatres,
public balls, and places of refreshment.

The Thursday of the carnival week was
always a great day with the students of Padua.
Headed by a band of music, they marched at
midday in procession through the streets without
committing any excesses; but at night,
despite the heavy penalties they were liable to,
they gave rein to the wildest orgies, much to
the alarm and disgust of the more sober citizens
of Venice. On the Friday morning, a flotilla
of gondolas, gaily decked with flags, took them
back to the mainland, and the remainder of the
carnival belonged to the citizens of Venice.

At the police-office, it was ascertained that
the murdered man was one Antonio Toldo, a
rich jeweller, domiciled at San Salvador. A
silver chain round his neck, and a well-furnished
purse in his pocket, showed that the
murder was not accompanied by robbery; the
motive was, therefore, to be attributed to
hatred or revenge. A letter in the pocket-
book of the defunct proved that he had been
enticed into a trap. This letter, written in the
Brescian dialect, and evidently in a disguised
hand, ran thus:

"Ser Antonio, if on Thursday at eight o'clock
precisely you will come to the Campo Zeno,
near the Church of the Frari, an individual,
who takes an interest in all deceived husbands,
will put you in possession of the papers you
are anxious to obtain. You must burn them,
though they are masterpieces, and he whom
you have persecuted has forgiven you your
ill-will."

This document, with the official report of
the inquest on the body, with the clothes of
the victim, and the matchlock, were placed in
sale custody at the police-office.

The night was pretty far advanced when
the two agents who witnessed the murder
started to see if they could find any indications
to put them on the track of the assassin.
About an hour before daybreak, Menego was
attracted by the noise made by a number
of students seated inside a small wineshop
in a little street near the Church of St.
Moses. One of these students, standing on
the table, was addressing the others in a
burlesque harangue, which elicited shouts of laughter
and the applause of his audience. " Long
life to Pascal Ziobà!" was repeatedly shouted
by the admiring students, who drank the health
of the orator. The name caught the ear of
the police-agent, who remembered the broken
words of Toldo, who twice repeated the word
Ziobà. Menego's intellect was none of the
brightest, and he dared not arrest the student
on simple suspicion. He satisfied himself with
taking a long searching look at the features of
the young man, that he might recognise him
again. He then returned to the office for
instructions as to whether he should arrest him
or not. He was ordered to do so at once, and,
accompanied by two or three others, he
hastened to the wine-shop. But the sun had
meantime risen, the wine-shop was closed, and
the flotilla of the students was already ploughing
the waves of the blue Adriatic, on its way to
the mainland.

On the morrow, a lady, dressed in deep
mourning, and of remarkable beauty, presented
herself at the criminal court, and, throwing
herself at the feet of the magistrates, sobbing,
emplored justice and revenge for the murder of
her husband, Antonio Toldo; she said that she
would place one-half of her fortune at the
disposal of the judges to discover the assassin.
The magistrates requested the beautiful Lucrezia
Toldo to rise, promised her that the murder of
her husband should be avenged, showed her
the reports already made, and the measures
which had been taken, and assured her that the
most pressing orders had been given to
discover the murderer. A few days afterwards, a
gondola full of police-agents conveyed to Venice,
to the Prison of the Forty, the student Pascal
Ziobà, who had been arrested at Padua. Among
his papers a portfolio was found containing
pen-and-ink sketches; most of the drawings
represented a woman who bore a strong resemblance
to Lucrezia Toldo. Pascal was eighteen years
of age, and had not yet taken his degree,
consequently had no diploma; but it was proved that
on the Thursday in question he wore the dress
of a doctor of law, and amused himself during
the whole of the night in performing the part of
such a personage.

These indications seemed of a nature to lead
to a discovery of the truth; but the accused, on
the very first examination, triumphantly refuted
every suspicious circumstance, and caused the
greatest uncertainty in the minds of the judges.
He called as witness a girl of Padua, who