"Stop! I must say exactly how it happened. Percy was leaning against the parapet of the parade in a careless attitude. He did not even move when I rushed on him with the stiletto, and had Ireland not caught my arm, I should have killed him. Ireland said that he had followed me--thinking I was Violet Howard--to ask me to return to the hotel. He talked some rubbish about a gentle-born English girl being out at night; but when he found that I was only a servant there was no more of that talk. Poor Eliza Stokes could have been out till dawn for all these gentlemen cared. They laughed at me, Percy leaning against the parapet, Ireland beside me, holding the stiletto carelessly in his hand. As I said, I lost my temper, and I told Percy what I thought of that fool Rosina Lockwood. He lost his temper also, but that only made me more angry. At last he dashed forward, and I believe he would have struck me but that Mr. Ireland intervened. I don't know exactly how it happened, but, in moving, Mr. Ireland evidently forgot how he held the stiletto, and put out his hand with the weapon pointing outward. In rushing on me, Percy came against it, and it ran right into his heart. With a choking cry he fell dead. I was terrified, and began to wring my hands. Ireland knelt down and found that Percy was dead. He seized my wrist and told me to hold my tongue lest I should be accused of the death. I said it was his fault. He replied it was an accident. But I had got the stiletto, I had tried to kill Percy, and Ireland declared that if I said anything that he would denounce me as the criminal. I was terrified as I saw the danger in which I was placed. Ireland suggested that we should throw the body over the parapet on to the beach, and that it would be thought robbers had killed Percy. I agreed, and we threw the body of my darling over. Oh, how my heart ached when I heard it fall on the cruel, cruel stones. "With Ireland I arranged to hold my tongue, and on his part he promised he would say nothing. The next day the news of the discovery of the body came. I was nearly out of my mind. Señora Velez, from whom I had borrowed the stiletto, knowing of my love for Percy, and being in love with him herself, accused me of the crime. I denied it, and said that if she did not hold her tongue I would tell her husband how she had loved Percy. She was afraid of her husband, who was a jealous brute, so she remained quiet. I gave her back the stiletto, which I had obtained from Ireland. We were both safe, but I was so ill that I left the hotel and returned to England. George Rates, who never suspected my share in the death, followed----"