Barbara’s lover must be Quijada. For the Spaniard’s sake she had given him up, and perhaps even played the part of adviser in this abominable business. It must be so, for who else could know what she was to him?
Yet no! He himself had aided the guilty passion of this couple, for how warmly he had sung Barbara’s praises to Don Luis! And then in how many a conversation with Barbara had Quijada’s name been mentioned, and he had always spoken of this man with warm regard. Hence her remark that he himself deemed her lover worthy of esteem.
In a few seconds these thoughts darted through his heated brain with the speed of lightning.
The street began to whirl around him, and a deep loathing of the base traitor, a boundless hatred of the destroyer of his happiness, of the betrayed girl, and the life which led through such abysses overpowered the deluded man.
The infamous girl had just left her lover’s arms, her kiss was doubtless still glowing on his faithless lips!
Wolf groaned aloud like a sorely stricken deer, and for a moment it seemed to him that the best course would be to put an end to his own ruined life. But rage and hate urged him upon another victim, and, unable to control himself, he rushed with uplifted blade upon the hypocritical seducer.
This utterly unexpected attack did not give Don Luis time to draw his sword, but, with ready presence of mind, he forced the hand wielding the weapon aside, and, while he felt a sharp pain in his left arm, seized the assassin with his right hand, swung his light figure upward, and with the strength and skill peculiar to him hurled it with all his might upon the stone steps of the dwelling.
Not a single word, only a savage cry of fury, followed by a piteous moan, had escaped Wolf’s lips during this swift deed of violence.
The Spaniard scornfully thrust aside with his foot the inert body lying on the ground. His arrogance did not deem it worth while to ascertain what had befallen the murderer who had been punished. He had more important things to do, for his own blood was flowing in a hot, full stream over his hand.
Accustomed in bull fighting and in battle to maintain his calmness and caution even in the most difficult situation, he said to himself that, if his wound should be connected with the murder before this house it would betray his master’s secret to the Ratisbon courts of justice, and thereby to the public.