'There
are some who wait for me,' he added with a sigh--'and there are some,
too, who follow me.' And the momentary look of softness passed from
his features between the clauses of the sentence, and gave place to an
expression almost of ferocity. 'Now, is it finished? That is well.
See, I can walk as firmly as though I had never been wounded. Give me
some bread; pay yourself for your hospitality with this piece of gold,
and adieu.'
The priest put back the gold with displeasure. 'I am not an
innkeeper,' said he; 'and I do not sell my hospitality.'
'As you will, but pardon me; and now, farewell, my kind host.'
So saying, he took the bread, which Margarita, at her master's
command, very unwillingly gave him, and soon his tall figure
disappeared among the thick foliage of a wood which surrounded the
house, or rather the cabin. An hour had scarcely passed, when
musket-shots were heard close by, and the unknown reappeared, deadly
pale, and bleeding from a deep wound near the heart.
'Take these,' said he, giving some pieces of gold to his late host;
'they are for my children--near the stream--in the valley.'
He fell, and the next moment several police-officers rushed into the
house. They hastily secured the unfortunate man, who attempted no
resistance.
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