It was the end of September

　　"That evening," continued Bertuccio, "I could have killedthe procureur, but as I was not sufficiently acquainted withthe neighborhood, I was fearful of not killing him on thespot, and that if his cries were overheard I might be taken;so I put it off until the next occasion, and in order thatnothing should escape me, I took a chamber looking into thestreet bordered by the wall of the garden. Three days after,about seven o'clock in the evening, I saw a servant onhorseback leave the house at full gallop, and take the roadto Sevres. I concluded that he was going to Versailles, andI was not deceived. Three hours later, the man returnedcovered with dust, his errand was performed, and two minutesafter, another man on foot, muffled in a mantle, opened thelittle door of the garden, which he closed after him. Idescended rapidly; although I had not seen Villefort's face,I recognized him by the beating of my heart. I crossed thestreet, and stopped at a post placed at the angle of thewall, and by means of which I had once before looked intothe garden. This time I did not content myself with looking,but I took my knife out of my pocket, felt that the pointwas sharp, and sprang over the wall. My first care was torun to the door; he had left the key in it, taking thesimple precaution of turning it twice in the lock. Nothing,then, preventing my escape by this means, I examined thegrounds. The garden was long and narrow; a stretch of smoothturf extended down the middle, and at the corners wereclumps of trees with thick and massy foliage, that made abackground for the shrubs and flowers. In order to go fromthe door to the house, or from the house to the door, M. deVillefort would be obliged to pass by one of these clumps oftrees.

　　"It was the end of September; the wind blew violently. Thefaint glimpses of the pale moon, hidden momentarily bymasses of dark clouds that were sweeping across the sky,whitened the gravel walks that led to the house, but wereunable to pierce the obscurity of the thick shrubberies, inwhich a man could conceal himself without any fear ofdiscovery. I hid myself in the one nearest to the pathVillefort must take, and scarcely was I there when, amidstthe gusts of wind, I fancied I heard groans; but you know,or rather you do not know, your excellency, that he who isabout to commit an assassination fancies that he hears lowcries perpetually ringing in his ears. Two hours passedthus, during which I imagined I heard moans repeatedly.Midnight struck. As the last stroke died away, I saw a faintlight shine through the windows of the private staircase bywhich we have just descended. The door opened, and the manin the mantle reappeared. The terrible moment had come, butI had so long been prepared for it that my heart did notfail in the least. I drew my knife from my pocket again,opened it, and made ready to strike. The man in the mantleadvanced towards me, but as he drew near I saw that he had aweapon in his hand. I was afraid, not of a struggle, but ofa failure. When he was only a few paces from me, I saw thatwhat I had taken for a weapon was only a spade. I was stillunable to divine for what reason M. de Villefort had thisspade in his hands, when he stopped close to the thicketwhere I was, glanced round, and began to dig a hole in theearth. I then perceived that he was hiding something underhis mantle, which he laid on the grass in order to dig morefreely. Then, I confess, curiosity mingled with hatred; Iwished to see what Villefort was going to do there, and Iremained motionless, holding my breath. Then an idea crossedmy mind, which was confirmed when I saw the procureur liftfrom under his mantle a box, two feet long, and six or eightinches deep. I let him place the box in the hole he hadmade, then, while he stamped with his feet to remove alltraces of his occupation, I rushed on him and plunged myknife into his breast, exclaiming, -- `I am GiovanniBertuccio; thy death for my brother's; thy treasure for hiswidow; thou seest that my vengeance is more complete than Ihad hoped.' I know not if he heard these words; I think hedid not, for he fell without a cry. I felt his blood gushover my face, but I was intoxicated, I was delirious, andthe blood refreshed, instead of burning me. In a second Ihad disinterred the box; then, that it might not be known Ihad done so, I filled up the hole, threw the spade over thewall, and rushed through the door, which I double-locked,carrying off the key."