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Updated: August 11, 2024
I will bring it." "Well, hurry then," said French. "Meantime, my pipe is out." He drew a match, struck it on the sole of his boot, lighted his pipe and threw the blazing remnant toward the back of the cave. "Ah, my God!" cried Rosenblatt, his voice rising almost to a shriek. Both men looked curiously at him. "Ah," he said, with his hand over his heart, "I have pain here. But I will get the paper."
Never again did Rosenblatt attempt to pass through that door, but schooled himself to wait a better time and a safer path to compass his vengeance. But from that moment, where there had been merely contempt for Paulina and her family, there sprang up bitter hatred.
He stepped nearer Rosenblatt and stood in the full light and in the attitude of a soldier at attention. "Behold," he cried, "Michael Kalmar!" "Ah-h-h-h!" Rosenblatt's voice was prolonged into a wail of despair as from a damned soul. "My father!" cried Kalman from across the ravine. "My father! Don't commit this crime! For my sake, for Christ's dear sake!"
"Be off with you." He made a few hurried preparations, sent word to Kalman, and departed. He had forty miles before him, and his horse was none of the best. Rosenblatt had two hours' lead and was, doubtless, well mounted. There was a chance, however, that he would take the journey by easy stages. But a tail chase is a long chase, especially when cupidity and hate are spurring on the pursued.
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