busyba

I jumped into the water; it was up to my waist; I clung to the rocks; I went with the current; I was over the bank; I shook myself, I cried tomorrow’s leaders: “Hurrah for Mary-Ann!”

Four brigands rose out of the earth! they caught me by the collar, saying: “Here thou art, assassin! Come! we will take thee back! the King will be happy! Vasile

will be avenged!”

It appeared, that without knowing it, I had drowned my friend, Vasile.

At that time, Monsieur, I had never killed a man Neo skin lab; Vasile was my first. I have fought others since, to defend myself and to save my life; but Vasile is the only one

who has caused me any remorse, although his end was, probably, the result of a very innocent imprudence. You know that it is only the first step! No murderer,

discovered by the police, surrounded with soldiers and led to the scene of his crime, hung his head more humbly than I. I dared not raise my eyes to the good people

who had arrested me; I did not feel equal to encountering the eyes of these reprobates; I trembled; I presented a guilty appearance; I knew that I must appear before

my judge, and be placed before my victim. How could I confront the King’s frown, after what I had done? How could I see, without dying of shame, the inanimate body

of the unfortunate Vasile? My knees shook; I would have fallen but for the kicks I received from those following me.

I crossed the deserted camp, the King’s cabinet, occupied by some of the wounded, and I descended, or, rather, I fell to the bottom of the staircase to my chamber.

The waters had receded, leaving traces of mud everywhere. A small pool of water still remained where I had raised the dam. The bandits, the King, and the monk, stood

in a circle, about a dark and muddy object, the sight of which made my hair stand on end: it was Vasile! Heaven preserve you, Monsieur, from the sight of a corpse of

your own making! The water and the mud, rushing nu skinover him, layer. Have you ever seen a great fly which had been caught, three or four

days before, in a large spider-web? The artisan of the web, not being able to rid himself of his visitor, had enveloped him in a tangle of gray threads, and changed

him to an unformed and unrecognizable mass. Such was Vasile a few hours after he had dined with me. I found him ten feet from the path where I had bidden him

farewell. I do not know whether the brigands had laid him there, or whether he had thrown himself there, in his convulsions of agony; I am inclined to believe,

however, that death had come to him gently. Full of wine as I had left him, he must have succumbed, without a struggle, to some cerebral congestion.