But Vladimir, the sailor, had already in the meantime, from the top of an adjacent lane, beheld Vladimir Crackovitch at the door of his home, and, being a man of the most blindly passionate and jealous impulses, his next procedure may be imagined.
Several hours later a neighbour called at the cottage and discovered the three corpses in one sad heap: Vera Alexandrina Polianowski, shot through the breast; at her side, Vladimir Crackovitch, with a bullet in each eye; and, still clutching his revolver, Vladimir, the sailor, seated upon his grim cushion of the dead, his back supported against the wall under the domestic lamplit icon, with a smile of hellish satisfaction frozen upon his lips and the remaining three bullets buried in his heart.
The above is not necessarily a true story. It is a specimen of the small-print news with which the rather young Assistant Sub-Editor of _The Dullandshire Chronicle_ (established 1763) is permitted, occasionally, to divert those of _The Chronicle's_ subscribers who take an intelligent interest in continental affairs.
"You know the 'Tziganes,' don't you?--those marvellous gentlemen in red coats with sleek dark singlets, exotic complexions, and bold, rolling black eyes."--_Sunday Chronicle_.
Strictly speaking, singlets, of whatever colour, should be worn _under_ the coat.
I heard the huntsman calling as he drew Threeacre Spinney; He found a fox and hunted him and handled him ere night, And his voice upon the hill-side was as golden as a guinea, And I ventured he'd done nicely--most respectful and polite-- Jig-jogging back to kennels, and the stars were shining bright.
Old Jezebel and Jealous they were trotting at his stirrup; The road was clear, the moon was up, 'twas but a mile or so; He got the pack behind him with a chirp and with a chirrup, And said he, "I had the secret from my gran'dad long ago, And all the old man left me, Sir, if you should want to know.
"And he was most a gipsy, Sir, and spoke the gipsy lingos, But he knew of hounds and horses all as NIMROD might have know'd: When we'd ask him how he did it, he would say, 'You little Gringos, I learnt it from a lady that I met upon the road; In the hills o' Connemara was this wondrous gift bestowed.'