Falco goes a few steps, then stops again. He straightens himself up, and at the same time moves his body so that the snake shadow writhes and twists on the wall.
“I shall be quite well, quite well,” he says.
The men drag him away, but it is too late.
Caterina’s eyes have fallen on the snake shadow. She can control herself no longer; she throws herself across the table, takes the gun, shoots and kills Falco. She had not intended to do it, but when she saw him it was impossible for her to let him go. She had cherished the thought of revenge for twenty years. It took the upper hand over her.
“Caterina, Caterina,” screams her niece.
“He only asked me to be allowed to go in peace into the church,” answers the old woman.
Old Biagio lays Falco’s body straight, and says with a grim look:—
“He would be quite well; quite well.”