Without opening his eyes, and like a man talking in his sleep, Darlés answered:
"It's not the one you wanted, I know. I found that out, afterward. But—at that moment, they all looked green to me."
Thus befell one more event, one more caprice of the bitter and eternal irony of things. To give one's life for a necklace, an emerald necklace, and then to get the wrong one! The student murmured:
"Good-by!"
A long shudder trembled through his body. Suddenly the shadow of death gave his face a stern, manly severity. His lips twisted. Candelas, kneeling beside the bed, wept and prayed. Alicia, more violent in disposition, caught Enrique by the shoulder.
"Enrique!" she cried. "Enrique!"
And for a moment she looked at him with one of those tragic, passionate expressions that sometimes explain the sacrifice of a life. The student could still whisper:
"Remember—!"
This was his final word. His eyes drooped shut. He died quietly, with no bleeding at the lips. A whitish aura spread over his face. Alicia exclaimed:
"Enrique! Can you hear me? Enrique!"