“I will do that,” she answered. “I will let you know when I leave this house.”
“Here is my card then. You had better take care of it. A letter or telegram will always find me. And now good-night, my poor girl. Remember, I am your friend.”
“Good-night, and may God bless you.”
So saying, she disappeared into the house, while he, in his turn, after taking the bearing of the house, in case he should want to find it again, set off in the opposite direction to that by which he had entered the street.
Meanwhile Teresina, choking down her sobs, climbed the stairs to the room she occupied in that ramshackle tenement. Unlocking the door, she entered and started to cross the floor in search of a box of matches she remembered having left upon the chimney-piece. She had not advanced more than three steps, however, before she was seized by the throat from behind, while at the same time a keen-bladed knife was driven, as far as the handle, between her shoulders, only to be withdrawn and thrust in again and again, until she fell with a little gasp upon the floor.
When her assassin had made sure that she was dead, he lit the gas and knelt beside her for a few minutes. Then he rose, placed something in a box upon the table, turned off the gas once more, picked up the box, and went out, relocking the door behind him.
[CHAPTER VI]
After leaving Teresina, Godfrey made his way back to his hotel. As he strode along he meditated as to what he should do to help her. That the girl was in serious trouble, he had not the least doubt; but since she would not allow him to assist her in any form, what could he do?