e house behind him.... He glanced round....

In fact, the window of the bedroom was open from top to bottom, and with
one foot thrust across the sill stood Valeria in the window ... and her
arms seemed to be seeking Muzio, her whole being was drawn toward him.

Unspeakable wrath flooded Fabio's breast in a suddenly-invading
torrent.--"Accursed sorcerer!" he yelled fiercely, and seizing Muzio by
the throat with one hand, he fumbled with the other for the dagger in
his belt, and buried its blade to the hilt in his side.

Muzio uttered a piercing shriek, and pressing the palm of his hand to
the wound, fled, stumbling, back to the pavilion.... But at that same
instant, when Fabio stabbed him, Valeria uttered an equally piercing
shriek and fell to the ground like one mowed down.

Fabio rushed to her, raised her up, carried her to the bed, spoke to
her....

For a long time she lay motionless; but at last she opened her eyes,
heaved a deep sigh, convulsively and joyously, like a person who has
just been saved from inevitable death,--caught sight of her husband, and
encircling his neck with her arms, pressed herself to his breast.

"Thou, thou, it is thou," she stammered. Gradually the clasp of her arms
relaxed, her head sank backward, and whispering, with a blissful
smile:--"Thank God, all is over.... But how weary I am!"--she fell into
a profound but not heavy slumber.

X

Fabio sank down beside her bed, and never taking his eyes from her pale,
emaciated, but already tranquil face, he began to reflect upon what had
taken place ... and also upon how he ought to proceed now. What was he
to do? If he had slain Muzio--and when he recalled how deeply the blade
of his dagger had penetrated he could not doubt that he had done
so--then it was impossible to conceal the fact. He must bring it to the
knowledge of the Duke, of the judges ... but how was he to explain, how
was he to narrate such an incomprehensible affair? He, Fabio, had slain
in his own house his relative, his best friend! People would ask, "What
for? For what cause?..." But what if Muzio were not slain?--Fabio had
not the strength to remain any longer in uncertainty, and having made
sure that Valeria was asleep, he cautiously rose from his arm-chair,
left the house, and directed his steps toward the pavilion. All was
silent in it; only in one window was a light visible. With sinking heart
he opened the outer door--(a trace of bloody fingers still clung t