In his eagerness to mark the effect of Nikita's second shot Gabor had likewise pressed forward to the casement, forgetful of Ravenna, who, taking advantage of this negligence, picked himself up from the corner where Zabern had flung him, and ran from the oratory into the library. The wondering police next day traced his course over the carpet by the blood-drops that fell from his shattered wrist.
But in a moment more the avenging Zabern was after him, his sabre gleaming in his hand.
The cardinal had reached the locked door of the library: his unwounded hand had turned the key; his fingers were already upon the door-handle when Zabern, with a laugh of horrid glee, clutched him by the collar of his cassock with the same hand that held the sabre, and pulled him backward upon his knees.
The agony of the situation forced from Ravenna a yell that curdled the blood of the treacherous steward who kept watch at the foot of the staircase, but it had no effect upon Zabern.
"You paid no heed to Natalie's screams, nor will I to yours."
He thought no more now of safeguarding himself by imparting to the murder the appearance of suicide.
"To hell, and say that Zabern sent you."
Foaming with fury, he dealt not one, but many strokes at the kneeling, swaying figure, with its feebly upraised hands. Nikita and Gabor, equally frenzied, joined in the savage work.
The three miserable men wiped their bloody sabres upon the window-curtains, and stared down upon the carpet at something which had once been a man.