"But you must have it extracted."
"No, no! for a surgeon would see that it is not a pistol bullet. He would see also that I was shot from behind, while running away. Besides, it is necessary that I should die; but if only the truth might be concealed—the cause of my death!"
"Rest a moment, count; this long narrative is killing you."
"I must finish; for someone may come—to arrest me."
"To arrest you?"
"Wait.—I was flying, despite my wound, when a young woman ran after me, calling to Giovanni, and giving him the sweetest names. That young woman, the Italian's mistress, overtook me not far from here; she clung to me, my strength failed me, my cap and false beard fell off, and she recognized me."
"Recognized you! Who is this young woman?"
"Miretta—the marchioness's maid."
"Fatality!—But, still, perhaps you alarm yourself needlessly; this girl will hold her peace."
"She will speak; for she loved Giovanni, and she divined the whole truth.—She will speak, for she is determined to avenge her lover!"