Then he let his hands fall and cracked his fingers, as if he were shaking the whole mystery out of his hands.
This dark gesture the hearers understood; they began to gaze in amazement at one another, each trying to guess his neighbour's thoughts, and the gloomy silence lasted for several minutes. At last Rykov said:—
"The wolf was a robber, and robbers have caught him!"
"Requiescat in pace," added the Chamberlain.
"In this was the finger of God!" said the Judge. "But I am not guilty of this blood; I did not know of this."
The Monk rose on the pillows and sat up with gloomy mien. At last he said, looking sharply at the Warden:—
"It is a great sin to slay an unarmed captive! Christ forbids us to take vengeance even on our enemies! Ah! Warden, you will answer heavily for this to God. There is but one ground of pardon—if the deed was done not from stupid vengeance but pro publico bono."
The Warden made a motion with his head and with his outstretched hand, and, blinking, repeated, "Pro publico bono."
There was no more talk of Major Plut. Next day they sought vainly for him in the yard, and vainly offered a reward for his body: the Major had perished without leaving a trace behind, as though he had fallen into the water; as to what had become of him there were various rumours, but no one knew with certainty, either then or later. In vain they tormented the Warden with questions; he said nothing but these words, "Pro publico bono." The Seneschal was in the secret, but, bound by his word of honour, the old man kept silent as if under a spell.
After the conclusion of the agreement, Rykov left the
