The Jew resumed, his voice sinking almost to a whisper.
“It vos quite dark behind the curtain but from the bathroom, through the open door, I could just see ole Mac standing with his back to me, a-holding the curtain. He must haf shlip in there to watch the other who vos komming opstairs. Then... then... I hear a step on the stair... a little, soft step... then ole Mac he open the curtain and cry ‘Who are you?’ Bang! the... the... other on the stairs he fire a shot. I see the red flash and I smell the... the powder not? The other, he does not vait... he just go on opstairs and ole Mac is lying there on his back with the blood a-trickling out on the oil-cloth. And I, vith my bag on my back, I creep downstair and out by the back again, and I ron and ron and then I valks. Gott! how I haf walked! I vos so frightened! And then, at last, I go to a policeman and gif ‘myself op!”
Barney stopped. The tears burst from his eyes and laying his grimy face on his arm, he sobbed.
The detective patted him on the back.
“Pull yourself together, man!” he said encouragingly.
“This man on the stairs,” queried the Chief, “did you see him?”
“Ach was!” replied the prisoner, turning a tearstained face towards him, “I haf seen nothing, except old Mac’s back vich vos right in vront of me, it vos so dark!”
“But couldn’t you see the other person at all, not even the outline” persisted the Chief.
The prisoner made a gesture of despair.
“It vos so dark, I say! Nothing haf I seen! I haf heard only his step!”