"Do you recollect this?" I demanded of the marchese.
"It was my wife's!" he shrieked in amazement.
"It was upon the infant's bosom as he slept by her side on that fatal night," said Cristofano. "I saw it sparkle there."
"That infant was myself—that wife my mother!" I cried.
"The murderer stands before you! Strike!" exclaimed Cristofano.
I raised the dagger. The marchese stirred not. I could not strike.
"Do you hesitate?" angrily exclaimed Cristofano.
"He has not the courage," returned the younger Calabrian. "You reproached me this morning with want of filial duty. Behold how a son can avenge his father!" And he plunged his stiletto within the bosom of the marchese.
"Your father is not yet avenged, young man!" cried Cristofano, in a terrible tone. "You alone can avenge him!"
Ere I could withdraw its point the old man had rushed upon the dagger which I held extended in my grasp.