62
EL NUMERO TRECE
ter, and in spite of the prompt attendance of the most skilful physicians in the city, she quickly succumbed in the flower of her youth and beauty.
"Pneumonia!" cried Simon with his face distorted with grief. "No, science is at fault. An implacable hand, a fatal number has killed her. We had thirteen people at the table at our wedding-feast!"
All who heard him say this thought that grief had driven him wild. Señor Albamonte was inconsolable.
Simon was left a widower, and poor, for alll his wife's property reverted to her father. He fled from the house and disappeared from society forever.
"Did he die?"
"No!"
"Is he still alive?"
"Yes. He has been confined in an insane asylum for some years past, where he is known as No. 13."
