He locked up the bottles and glasses, arranged the chairs, and wiped up

the wine which had been spilled on the table and the floor.

While thus engaged, he muttered to himself: "I must not remain longer. I myself must go to the bailiff and accuse

Julio of the murder. Shall I go this evening? No; they might come and find

him alive, and a powerful antidote might perhaps rouse him from sleep.

To-morrow, then--to-morrow morning. But how shall I explain the affair?

When and how did he reveal his crime? Night will suggest a means. All is

done. I will go home and appear calm and cheerful."

He threw his cloak around his shoulders, took the lamp from the table, and

walked to the door. There he stopped for a moment to contemplate his

victim and precipitately descended the staircase. At the foot of the steps

he extinguished the light, traversed the garden, opened the gate, and

disappeared in the darkness.




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