“Pucha! ... He is going to kill him,” he said between his teeth.
Torre Bianca gave the third clap. “Three!” But the instant before Canterac had fired.
There was a general rush in one direction. Only the captain remained motionless, one arm hanging by his side, the still smoking revolver in his left hand.
Pirovani lay stretched on the ground, an inert mass. The men who reached him first saw a thread of blood coming from the top of his head, and running out, a miniature stream, on the grass. Then his head was hidden from view, for every one was crowding around the fallen body, leaning over to hear what the doctor was saying.
In a few moments the latter looked up, and stammered,
“There’s nothing to be done ... he’s dead!”
Seeing that Canterac was approaching to learn what had been the effect of his shot, Torre Bianca went up to him, quickening his steps. His gesture told Canterac what had happened even before he spoke.
His second judged it necessary to get him away from the field and ordered him to follow. On the other side of the sand dunes a vehicle was waiting. It was the same one that had transported Elena to the garden party.
When this cart deposited them in front of the house that had once belonged to Pirovani, both men stood hesitant.... Torre Bianca could not ask the captain to enter the house of the man he had just shot; nor did Canterac dare move towards it.