honestly, because—because it was the greatest man could play. And I, too, sinned against her. Now die! She loved you—murderer!"
The man’s look still wandered distractedly along the wall. The sweat of death was on his face; his lips were moving spasmodically.
Suddenly his look became fixed; he found voice.
"Pardon—Jésu!" he said, and stiffened where he sat.
His eyes were fixed on the jewelled crucifix. Dubarre snatched it from the wall, and hastening to him held it to his lips: but the warm sparkle of the rubies fell on eyes that were cold as frosted glass. Dubarre saw that he was dead.
"Because the woman loved him!" he said, gazing curiously at the dead man.
He turned, went to the door and opened it, for his breath choked him.
All was still on the wooded heights and in the wide valley.
"Because the woman loved him he repented," said Dubarre again with a half-cynical gentleness as he placed the crucifix on the dead man’s breast.
