Then, at the edge of a field, he saw, three paces off, some red partridges fluttering in the stubble. He undid his cloak and flung it over them like a net. When he uncovered them, he could find only one, and that one long dead and rotten.
This deception exasperated him more than all the others. His thirst for carnage came back to him; failing beasts, he could have massacred men.
He climbed the three terraces, burst in the door with a blow of his fist; but at the foot of the stairs the thought of his dear wife relieved his heart. She was sleeping, no doubt, and he would go and surprise her.
Having drawn off his sandals, he turned the lock gently and entered.
The leaded panes obscured the pale light of the dawn. Julian caught his feet in some garments on the floor; further on, he stumbled against a side-board still covered with dishes. “She must have been eating,” he said to himself, and went towards the bed, which was lost in the darkness of the farther side of the room. When he reached the bed-side, in order to embrace his wife, he leant over the pillow where the two heads were reposing side by side. Thereupon he felt the touch of a beard against his mouth.
He recoiled, thinking he was going mad; but he returned to the bed-side, and his fingers, as he felt about, came against hair which was very long. To convince himself of his error, he passed his hand gently over the pillow yet again. It was indeed a beard, this time, and a man!—a man lying with his wife!
Bursting into a wrath beyond measure, he fell upon them with his poniard; and he stamped and foamed, with howls like a savage beast. Then he stopped. The dead, pierced to the heart, had not so much as moved. He listened attentively to the two groanings almost equal, and, as they subsided, another one far away continued them. Indistinct at first, this plaintive, long-drawn voice came nearer, became loud, cruel: and to his terror he recognized it for the belling of the great black stag.
And, as he turned round, he thought he saw in the door-way the phantom of his wife, light in hand.
The din of the murder had brought her. With one staring glance she comprehended all, and, flying in horror, let fall her candle.
He picked it up.