egorio, come back, leave her; I love you."

"Is Madam Marx outside?" hissed Xantippe.

"Yes."

"Then go to her. I tell you I hate you." She pointed to the half-filled
box--"I was going to leave here to-night. I will never return to you."

"You were going with the Englishman?"

"He is a man."

Gregorio paused a moment, then in a suppressed voice, half choking at
the words, said:

"Our son--do you know what has happened to him? You shall not leave me."

"I know about our son. I am glad to think he is away from your evil
influence. Let me pass." Xantippe moved toward the door, but Gregorio
seized her by the throat.

"You are glad our son is killed; you helped Amos to kill him."

Rage and despair impelled him. Laughing brutally, he struck her on the
breast, and, as he tottered, sent his knife deep into her heart. For a
few seconds he stood over her exulting, and then opened the door. Madam
Marx, white with fear, rushed into the room. Seeing the murdered woman,
a look of triumph came into her eyes. But it was a momentary triumph,
for she realised at once the gravity of the crime. She had little pity
or sorrow to waste on the dead, but she was full of concern for the
safety of the murderer.

"This is a bad night's work, Gregorio."

"Is it? She deserved death. I am glad I killed her. God, how peacefully
I shall sleep tonight!"

"This is a worse matter than the other, my friend; you must get away
from here at once."

"Let us leave the corpse; I am thirsty," Gregorio answered, callously.
With a last look at Xantippe dead upon the floor, the two left the room
and made fast the bolt before descending the stairs. As they emerged
from the doorway into the street, some police rode by, and Gregorio
trembled a little as he stood watching them.

"I want a drink; I am trembling," he said, huskily, and followed Madam
Marx into the shop.

The sun was beginning to rise, and already signs of a new life were
stirring. The day-workers appeared at the windows and in the streets.

"You must get away at night, Gregorio, and keep hidden all day."

"All right. Give me some wine. I can arrange better when my thirst is
satisfied."

After drinking deeply he turned and laughed. "It has been a busy time
since sunset."

Then, as if a new idea suddenly struck him, he queried cunningly, "There
will be a reward offered?"

"I suppose so."

"Then you will be a rich woman."

Madam Marx flung herself at his feet and wept bitterly.