He who fired the shot knows that, by sight as well as sound. For he sees—all see—a man reeling, staggering, about to fall, and another with arms outstretched, as if partly in surprise, partly with intent to support him.
Only for an instant is the spectacle under their eyes. For suddenly as she showed herself, the moon disappears with a plunge into the opaque clouds, leaving all dark as before.
Chapter Fourteen.
The “Death Fandango.”
“You think you’ve killed him?”
It is Don Estevan who interrogates, startled out of his slumber by the report of the gambusino’s gun, which has brought him in hurried haste to the post of guard.
“Pretty sure of it, your worship,” is the rejoinder, in calm confidence.
“We all saw him staggering—he must have gone down,” says another of the videttes, confirmingly.