Part 31 (2/2)
”Two!”
The scared and bewildered expression of Ferrari's face deepened visibly as he eyed me steadily in taking aim. I smiled proudly--I gave him back glance for glance--I saw him waver--his hand shook.
”Three!” and the white handkerchief fluttered to the ground. Instantly, and together, we fired. Ferrari's bullet whizzed past me, merely tearing my coat and grazing my shoulder. The smoke cleared--Ferrari still stood erect, opposite to me, staring straight forward with the same frantic faroff look--the pistol had dropped from his hand.
Suddenly he threw up his arms--shuddered--and with a smothered groan fell, face forward, p.r.o.ne on the sward. The surgeon hurried to his side and turned him so that he lay on his back. He was unconscious--though his dark eyes were wide open, and turned blindly upward to the sky. The front of his s.h.i.+rt was already soaked with blood. We all gathered round him.
”A good shot?” inquired the marquis, with the indifference of a practiced duelist.
”Ach! a good shot indeed!” replied the little German doctor, shaking his head as he rose from his examination of the wound. ”Excellent! He will be dead in ten minutes. The bullet has pa.s.sed through the lungs close to the heart. Honor is satisfied certainly!”
At that moment a deep anguished sigh parted the lips of the dying man.
Sense and speculation returned to those glaring eyes so awfully upturned. He looked upon us all doubtfully one after the other--till finally his gaze rested upon me. Then he grew strangely excited--his lips moved--he eagerly tried to speak. The doctor, watchful of his movements, poured brandy between his teeth. The cordial gave him momentary strength--he raised himself by a supreme effort.
”Let me speak,” he gasped faintly, ”to HIM!” And he pointed to me--then he continued to mutter like a man in a dream--”to him--alone--alone!--to him alone!”
The others, slightly awed by his manner, drew aside out of ear-shot, and I advanced and knelt beside him, stooping my face between his and the morning sky. His wild eyes met mine with a piteous beseeching terror.
”In G.o.d's name,” he whispered, thickly, ”WHO ARE YOU?”
”You know me, Guido!” I answered, steadily. ”I am Fabio Romani, whom you once called friend! I am he whose wife you stole!--whose name you slandered!--whose honor you despised! Ah! look at me well! your own heart tells you who I am!”
He uttered a low moan and raised his hand with a feeble gesture.
”Fabio? Fabio?” he gasped. ”He died--I saw him in his coffin--”
I leaned more closely over him. ”I was BURIED ALIVE,” I said with thrilling distinctness. ”Understand me, Guido--buried alive! I escaped--no matter how. I came home--to learn your treachery and my own dishonor! Shall I tell you more?”
A terrible shudder shook his frame--his head moved restlessly to and fro, the sweat stood in large drops upon his forehead. With my own handkerchief I wiped his lips and brow tenderly--my nerves were strung up to an almost brittle tension--I smiled as a woman smiles when on the verge of hysterical weeping.
”You know the avenue,” I said, ”the dear old avenue, where the nightingales sing? I saw you there, Guido--with HER!--on the very night of my return from death--SHE was in your arms--you kissed her--you spoke of me--you toyed with the necklace on her white breast!”
He writhed under my gaze with a strong convulsive movement.
”Tell me--quick!” he gasped. ”Does--SHE--know you?”
”Not yet!” I answered, slowly. ”But soon she will--when I have married her!”
A look of bitter anguish filled his straining eyes. ”Oh, G.o.d, G.o.d!” he exclaimed with a groan like that of a wild beast in pain. ”This is horrible, too horrible! Spare me--spare--” A rush of blood choked his utterance. His breathing grew fainter and fainter; the livid hue of approaching dissolution spread itself gradually over his countenance.
Staring wildly at me, he groped with his hands as though he searched for some lost thing. I took one of those feebly wandering hands within my own, and held it closely clasped.
”You know the rest,” I said gently; ”you understand my vengeance! But it is all over, Guido--all over, now! She has played us both false. May G.o.d forgive you as I do!”
He smiled--a soft look brightened his fast-glazing eyes--the old boyish look that had won my love in former days.
”All over!” he repeated in a sort of plaintive babble. ”All over now!
G.o.d--Fabio--forgive!--” A terrible convulsion wrenched and contorted his limbs and features, his throat rattled, and stretching himself out with a long s.h.i.+vering sigh--he died! The first beams of the rising sun, piercing through the dark, moss-covered branches of the pine-trees, fell on his cl.u.s.tering hair, and lent a mocking brilliancy to his wide-open sightless eyes: there was a smile on the closed lips! A burning, suffocating sensation rose in my throat, as of rebellious tears trying to force a pa.s.sage. I still held the hand of my friend and enemy--it had grown cold in my clasp. Upon it sparkled my family diamond--the ring SHE had given him. I drew the jewel off: then I kissed that poor pa.s.sive hand as I laid it gently down--kissed it tenderly, reverently. Hearing footsteps approaching, I rose from my kneeling posture and stood erect with folded arms, looking tearlessly down on the stiffening clay before me. The rest of the party came up; no one spoke for a minute, all surveyed the dead body in silence. At last Captain Freccia said, softly in half-inquiring accents:
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