To Cromillian’s mighty strength was now added the fury of despair. “I do not believe you!” he cried. “You shall die with that lie upon your lips.”
There were a few hurried passes, an intertwining and glistening of the sharp blades, and that of Cromillian pierced Pascal’s heart. As Cromillian started to leave the room, his eyes fell upon Manassa.
“I ought to send you to join your master, for I believe you are as wicked at heart as he was, but you are an old man and powerless to defend yourself. It would be murder to kill you. But they shall be saved.” He pointed to the dungeon door. “I shall come back with my men. We will pull this castle down; I will not leave one stone standing upon another.”
After Cromillian bad gone, Manassa picked up the sword and buckled the belt about his waist. What he did next would have surprised Cromillian if he had seen it. The old man took up the dead body of his master, clasped it firmly in his arms, and carried it slowly, step by step, down the long stone stairway, then farther down until he reached the library. Placing the body upon a low couch, he fell upon his knees beside it. Raising his right hand, he cursed the Della Coscias, he cursed Cromillian, and swore vengeance against him who had caused his master’s death.
“The Della Coscias are dead—so are the Batistellis. I am master now!”
CHAPTER XXX.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN.
Thomas Glynne knew that Jack De Vinne had gone with Cromillian and his party, though he did not know for what purpose. Doubt engenders suspicion, and he came to the conclusion that Cromillian had decided to espouse Jack’s cause, and had taken him to Ajaccio so that he could meet with Bertha.
Glynne was well provided with money, and it was in that shape which passes current in all lands—honest gold coins; he did not have to look far before he found one of the bandits who was willing to make an exchange, and Glynne soon learned what he most wished to know—the shortest and safest road to Ajaccio.
One night, Glynne, at his purchased friend’s suggestion, was put on guard. While his companions were sleeping soundly, in supposed safety, Glynne stole away in the darkness.
It was not quite daylight when he came suddenly upon Cromillian’s party, encamped in the maquis. A sleepy guard called to him, but receiving no reply, and still hearing the noise of his approach, fired in his direction. There was the sound of a falling body, then all was still. The sentry shortly reconnoitred and came upon the body of Thomas Glynne, who had been shot through the heart. He resumed his post, and it was not until morning that he informed his fellow bandits that he had called to the person, and, receiving no answer, supposed he was a spy, and had fired in his direction, as it proved, with unerring aim.