He saw his chance and took it. He tore himself free, pushed me violently away, snatched up his bag and coat and darted off. With a cry of rage, I started in pursuit, but I went no more than a few yards, just far enough to convince him I was in earnest, and then returned to my corner well satisfied to have got rid of him so easily. His information put a different complexion on matters. As he was going for the carriage which was to take Barosa and the rest to the station, the time for their departure must be drawing near; and when he did not return, some one would probably come out to look for him, or they would all have to start for the station on foot. I could well afford to wait for either result. Miralda was safe thus far, and, according to Marco, was willing to trust to Inez and Barosa to get her away from the city. The two latter had probably patched up a peace, and it was no doubt Inez’ plan to have the viscontesse with them--as a useful check on Barosa. About a quarter of an hour later the door of the house opened and some one looked out. I could not distinguish whether it was a man or a woman, however, as my attention had been distracted by three or four men at some distance away who were coming down the hill in my direction. I made out soon afterwards that they were police, and as I did not wish to be seen and questioned at that moment, I slipped along the by-street and hid in a doorway nearly opposite the house I was watching, to hide there until they had passed. Before they reached the turning, however, some one in the disguise of an old man came out of the house and shambled along toward the corner. It must be either Barosa or Maral, I knew; and as it would vastly simplify things if I could scare him away as I had scared Marco, I slipped like a shadow across the road and got between him and the house. He heard me and turned. “I arrest you, Dr. Barosa,” I cried, and started as if to run after him. Taking me for a police agent, he paused a second, drew out his revolver, and then, thinking probably he could both save himself by flight and prevent the others in the house being discovered, he turned round and bolted. But in avoiding me, he ran right into the arms of the police who reached the corner of the street at the same minute. There was a short sharp scuffle, a cry or two of astonishment, a gruff call to surrender, a pause, and then a shot. One of the police fell, and I saw Barosa break away, reach the middle of the road, and raise his hand to his head. A flash and a report followed, he lurched heavily and then dropped, as a drunken man drops, nervelessly and all in a heap. Everything had occurred with such dramatic swiftness that I could scarcely realize it. In a few seconds a number of people came hurrying up, attracted by the noise of the shots, and as they crowded round the police, I joined them and edged through to the front.