“Gertrude, I am lost!” He breathed with difficulty. “I have lived like a rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have always been true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you.” His eyes closed.
“O God,” she cried, “what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! We will leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!” She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains which these frantic fondlings gathered from his breast. “Johann!”
“Rich,” he said dreamily; “rich... and to die like a dog!”
She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler of brandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowed with effort.
“In the lungs,” he said. “God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich, Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns.... And I am dying!... What a failure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it led toward hell! Gertrude... I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand in this pocket; yes. Draw them out... A hundred thousand crowns!”
The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood.
“Hide them!” And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he came to his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with what remaining strength he had, he unfolded his plan.
And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with the ammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she fetched a basin of water and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the blood from his throat and lips, and moistened his hair.
“Listen!” he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. “It is they! They have found me! Quick! to the roof!” He struggled to his feet, with that strength which imparts itself to dying men, super-human while it lasts. He threw one arm around her neck. “Help me!”
And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, he groaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. She climbed the ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof.
“Now leave me!” he said, kissing her hand.
She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited and waited. This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, when again came the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? She held her hand to her ear. If he were dying... They had stopped; they were mounting the stairs; O God, they were beating on the door!