f adieu to Pietro and Andrea, had
stolen down to the river at nightfall.

He had taken his measures with a dogged resolution not uncommon in those
who are bent on self-destruction. He filled his pockets with all the
silver and copper he possessed, that he might sink the surer; and so
provided, hurried to a part of the stream that he had seen was little
frequented.

There are some, especially women, who look about to make sure there is
somebody at hand.

But this resolute wretch looked about him to make sure there was nobody.

And to his annoyance, he observed a single figure leaning against
the corner of an alley. So he affected to stroll carelessly away; but
returned to the spot.

Lo! the same figure emerged from a side street and loitered about.

"Can he be watching me? Can he know what I am here for?" thought Gerard.
"Impossible."

He went briskly off, walked along a street or two, made a detour and
came back.

The man had vanished. But lo! on Gerard looking all round, to make sure,
there he was a few yards behind, apparently fastening his shoe.

Gerard saw he was watched, and at this moment observed in the moonlight
a steel gauntlet in his sentinel's hand.

Then he knew it was an assassin.

Strange to say, it never occurred to him that his was the life aimed at.
To be sure he was not aware he had an enemy in the world.

He turned and walked up to the bravo. "My good friend," said he eagerly,
"sell me thine arm! a single stroke! See, here is all I have;" and he
forced his money into the bravo's hands.

"Oh, prithee! prithee! do one good deed, and rid me of my hateful life!"
and even while speaking he undid his doublet and bared his bosom.

The man stared in his face.

"Why do ye hesitate?" shrieked Gerard. "Have ye no bowels? Is it so much
pains to lift your arm and fall it? Is it because I am poor, and can't
give ye gold? Useless wretch, canst only strike a man behind; not look
one in the face. There, then, do but turn thy head and hold thy tongue!"

And with a snarl of contempt he ran from him, and flung himself into the
water.

"Margaret!"

At the heavy plunge of his body in the stream the bravo seemed to
recover from a stupor. He ran to the bank, and with a strange cry the
assassin plunged in after the self-destroyer.

What followed will be related by the assassin.

CHAPTER LXVIII

A woman has her own troubles, as a man has his. And we male writers
seldom do more than indicate the