" He then staggered toward his
own room, and I, remembering the loaded revolver which still lay on
the chest of drawers, tried to intercept him. In his rage, for I verily
believe that he also remembered that the weapon was there, he spat in my
face, and struck me with all his force between the eyes; but I stuck to
him, and with the help of the boy, who had been all this time in hiding,
but who came forward at my call, I laid him for the last time upon his
bed. There he lay exhausted for the remainder of the night; but there
was no rest for me; I felt that I had to watch him now for my own
safety.
Toward morning, however, his breathing became, all at once, very heavy
and slow, and I bent over him in alarm. As I did so, I heard him
sigh faintly, "Lucy!" and at that moment the native boy softly placed
something upon the bed. I took it up. It was the ring the sick man had
thrown away in the night, and as I looked at it I saw "James, from Lucy"
engraved on its inside surface, and I knew that the dead woman was his
wife.
As the first faint streaks of dawn stole into the room, the
slow-drawn breathing of the dying man ceased.
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