“Curse him!  If I had known that I was eating his b-b-bread, it would have choked me!  Send him to me!  Where is he?”

“I am here,” said David, quietly entering the door.  “I am here to throw myself on your mercy and to beg you, for the love of God, to forgive me.”

As he heard the familiar voice, the beggar trembled.  He made one last supreme effort to look out of his darkened eyes.  An expression of despairing agony followed the attempt, and then, with both his great bony hands, he clutched at the throat of his night robe as if choking for breath, tore it open and reaching down into his bosom felt for some concealed object.  He found it at last, grasped it and drew it forth.  It was a shining blade of steel.

Mantel sprang to take it from his hand; but David pushed him back and said calmly, “Let him alone.”

“Yes, let me alone,” cried the blind man, trembling in every limb, and crawling slowly and painfully from the bed.

The movements of the dying man were too slow and weak to convey any adequate expression of the tempest raging in his soul.  It was incredible that a tragedy was really being enacted, and that this poor trembling creature was thirsting for the lifeblood of a mortal foe.

David did not seek to escape.  He did not even shudder.  There was a singular expression of repose on his features, for in his desperation he solaced himself by the reflection that he was about to render final satisfaction for a sin whose atonement had become otherwise impossible.  He therefore folded his arms across his breast and stood waiting.

The contorted face of the furious beggar afforded a terrible contrast to the tranquil countenance of the penitent and unresisting object of his hatred.  The opaque flesh seemed to have become transparent, and through it glowed the baleful light of hatred and revenge.  The lips were drawn back from the white teeth, above which the great mustache bristled savagely.  The lids were lifted from the hollow and expressionless eyes.  Balancing himself for an instant he moved forward; but the emaciated limbs tottered under the weight of the body.  He reeled, caught himself, then reeled once more, and lunged forward in the direction from which he had heard the voice of his enemy.

Again Mantel strove to intercept him, and again David forced him back.

Uncertain as to the exact location of the object of his hatred, he raised his knife and struck at random; but the blow spent itself in air.

The futility and helplessness of his efforts crazed him.

“Where are you?  G-g-give me some sign!” he cried.

“I am here,” said David in a voice whose preternatural calmness sent a shudder to the heart of his friend.

With one supreme and final effort, the dying man lurched forward and threw himself wildly toward the sound.  His hand, brandishing the dagger, was uplifted and seemed about to descend on his foe; but at that very instant, with a frightful imprecation upon his lips, the gigantic form collapsed, the knife dropped from the hand, and he plunged, a corpse, into the arms of his intended victim.