"For Aminta's sake," said Taddeo, in a low voice; and the Count, rushing into the thicket, disappeared.
A few minutes passed and they waited for the horsemen, whose uniforms were seen in the distance. This was idle, for they passed within a few paces of the dead body without noticing it.
And another, too, in spite of all Von Apsberg's efforts, was dying. A convulsive whistle began to escape from the breast of the Lieutenant, his eyes rolled in his head, and his sight began to grow dim. The blood ceased to flow, and only a few black drops escaped from time to time. Suddenly the body which had become contracted, expanded, and by a last effort the eyes of the dying man began to expand and glittered strangely.
"Listen all," said he sharply and distinctly; "do not loose one word I say. These are the last words I shall ever pronounce. May God grant me power to unmask a traitor and prevent him from making new victims." All drew near, and paid attention to the words of one about to appear before his Creator. The respirations of the three auditors were distinct. "I said that I would reveal my secret only in articulo mortis, or in case my adversary fell, I will keep my promise. I did not tell you," and he turned with pain towards his seconds, "why I insulted this man who has killed me. The reason was that if I had spoken you would not have suffered me to meet him as being unworthy of the arm of an honest man. I wished to kill him first and unmask him afterwards. This brilliant Count Monte-Leone is a miserable hanger-on of the police. The people call such things eaves-droppers, but men of higher rank give them another name: Monte-Leone is a Spy in Society."
"Horror! it is a slander," said Von Apsberg and Taddeo.
"By all that is dearest to me," said the Lieutenant, whose voice became every moment weaker and weaker, "by my father's life, by my own soul, this is true. Monte-Leone denounced the General, and my father himself gave me evidence of the fact, which is beyond a doubt. He will also satisfy you—men do not lie at the hour of death, and I am dying with these words on my lips."
He closed his eyes and died.
IV—THE ANONYMOUS NOTE.
Nothing could describe the stupefaction of the four seconds of the duel at what A——said. Von Apsberg was the first to divest himself of the mute terror which seemed to have taken possession of all. "Gentlemen," said he, "I appeal to your honor. The truth of a dying man's assertions cannot be suspected. I am sure he was convinced of the truth of his assertion. This alone can palliate his statements. M. A—— would have soon recovered from his unfortunate impression in relation to the count, and it is a pity that he did not sooner impart it to us. We are able to furnish such evidence of Monte Leone's truth that he would have himself confessed that he was wrong. We will see at all risks the unfortunate young man's father and will attempt to discover the origin of this strange imputation. We will ask one favor of you, such as may be between people of honor, to suspend your judgments in relation to Monte-Leone until we are able to satisfy you this originated in some terrible mistake."
The naval officer then said: "We have no reason to be hostile to Count Monte-Leone, and his conduct in relation to the preliminaries of the duel rather inspire us with respect. We will, then, await your communications and say nothing of the circumstances."