Part 23 (1/2)
”And who's the thief?”
”No one knows.”
”Haven't they caught him?”
”No. He was too quick for them.”
”And he got away?”
”Yes.”
The mystery surrounding the criminal increased Alicia's uneasiness.
Still, it was an agreeable sensation, which caused her a certain vanity.
”Suppose the robbery really has been done for me!” she thought. She felt a proud, unhealthy emotion, like that of man when he meets his friends and they know some woman has killed herself for love of him.
Candelas, who could read Alicia's thoughts, exclaimed:
”Strange if the criminal were Enrique Darles!”
”I don't think it could be!”
”Well, now--it might.”
”That would be a terribly bad thing for him to have done.”
”Of course!”
”But if he really did do it, I don't care! Let the fool suffer for it.
Did _I_ tell him to? When you come right down to it, even if I had, what the devil? The one that does a thing is more to blame than the one that asks him to!”
The carriage stopped, and Alicia and Candelas got out. They made their way in under a poverty-stricken doorway. Candelas called:
”Janitress! Janitress!”
No answer.
”Follow me,” said Alicia. ”I know the way.”
She started along, daintily holding up her pearl-hued petticoat and shaking the big plume of her hat with a graceful motion. They went through a damp, ugly yard, then another, and began to climb a high stairway. The silken frou-frou of their skirts and the tinkling of their bangled bracelets broke the stillness. They reached the fourth story, and stopped in front of a door that stood ajar. Alicia tapped with her knuckles. No one answered. She knocked again. A voice, the voice of Enrique, feebly answered from within:
”Come!”
The girls found themselves in a dark room that stank of blood. Alicia could not repress a coa.r.s.e exclamation of disgust.
”How sickening! Phew!” she cried. ”What's this smell?”
At the end of the room, the silhouette of the bed was dimly visible.
From that bed, Enrique Darles stammered: