“Now? No, not now.” He spoke with terrible hesitation.
The girl kissed her father and went towards their house. Through the gloom he watched her and saw her pass the garden gate. Then he searched about for the bravo. The assassin was lounging at the corner of the house, and at a motion from the fool he came forward.
Eagerly Rigoletto put money into his hand, saying the rest should be his when the man was dead. Then he turned away, saying that at midnight he would return.
The bravo carelessly replied that he had no need of help, he could, alone, cast the body into the river.
“No,” said the fool, suddenly stopping; “let that be my portion of the work.”
“Good,” said the assassin, carelessly; “who is he?”
“His name is Crime and mine is Punishment.”
The bravo shrugged his shoulders, and then carelessly opened the door of the hut, and entered, while the fool turned, and with downcast head, moved slowly away, afraid to go home till the vengeance was completed.
Loud roared the storm; the lightnings lit up the hovel, and the wavering thunder rolled incessantly. Yet had the assassin no fear.
The duke said he should remain all night, and bade the new comer leave them. But the gipsey girl prayed the young duke to depart. Said the bravo, he should be glad to place his room at the stranger’s disposal, and he hid the golden money the fool had given him.