“There were many reasons why he should die by my hand. But I can’t lose time—Money, money! for God’s sake, money! I may be pursued. We did not fight. I—I killed him.”
“Killed him!” she cried, “how?”
“Why, as one kills anything. He stole my whole fortune and I took it back, that’s all. Juana, now that everything is quiet you must go down to that heap of stones—you know the heap by the garden wall—and get that money, since you haven’t any in the house.”
“The money that you stole?” said Juana.
“What does that matter to you? Have you any money to give me? I tell you I must get away. They are on my traces.”
“Who?”
“The people, the police.”
Juana left the room, but returned immediately.
“Here,” she said, holding out to him at arm’s length a jewel, “that is Dona Lagounia’s cross. There are four rubies in it, of great value, I have been told. Take it and go—go!”
“Felicie hasn’t come back,” he cried, with a sudden thought. “Can she have been arrested?”