It did not occur to you to untie me; it does not occur to
me to untie you. Sh - ! there's a late footstep. It is coming this way.
Hark, how near it is! One can count the footfalls - one - two - three.
There - it is just outside. Now is the time! Shout, man, shout! - it is
the one sole chance between you and eternity! Ah, you see you have
delayed too long - it is gone by. There - it is dying out. It is gone!
Think of it - reflect upon it - you have heard a human footstep for the
last time. How curious it must be, to listen to so common a sound as
that, and know that one will never hear the fellow to it again.'
Oh, my friend, the agony in that shrouded face was ecstasy to see! I
thought of a new torture, and applied it - assisting myself with a trifle
of lying invention -
'That poor Kruger tried to save my wife and child, and I did him a
grateful good turn for it when the time came. I persuaded him to rob
you; and I and a woman helped him to desert, and got him away in
safety.' A look as of surprise and triumph shone out dimly through the
anguish in my victim's face. I was disturbed, disquieted. I said -
'What, then - didn't he escape?'
A negative shake of the head.
'No? What happened, then?'
The satisfaction in the shrouded face was still plainer. The man tried
to mumble out some words - could not succeed; tried to express something
with his obstructed hands - failed; paused a moment, then feebly tilted
his head, in a meaning way, toward the corpse that lay nearest him.
'Dead?' I asked. 'Failed to escape? - caught in the act and shot?'
Negative shake of the head.
'How, then?'
Again the man tried to do something with his hands. I watched closely,
but could not guess the intent. I bent over and watched still more
intently. He had twisted a thumb around and was weakly punching at his
breast with it. 'Ah - stabbed, do you mean?'
Affirmative nod, accompanied by a spectral smile of such peculiar
devilishness, that it struck an awakening light through my dull brain,
and I cried -
'Did I stab him, mistaking him for you? - for that stroke was meant for
none but you.'
The affirmative nod of the re-dying rascal was as joyous as his failing
strength was able to put into its expression.
'O, miserable, miserable me, to slaughter the pitying soul that, stood a
friend to my darlings when they were helpless, and would have saved them
if he could! miserable, oh, miserable, miserable me!'
I fancied I heard the muffled gurgle of a, mocking laugh. I took my face
out of my hands, and saw my enemy sinking back upon his inclined board.
