Hapsburg Liebe

“ Late that night, Elva stole from our hut. I was sleeping, and I didn’t know that she was gone until she returned. She knelt beside me, kissed me, and put the Austrian’s hunting-knife in my hands!
“Now, Weydman," she whispered to me, “Burcoltz has no weapon at all. He has nothing save an awkward club.
“But to knife a man,” I chattered, “is so brutal! If this were only a gun, or—”
"My dear!” exclaimed Elva, caressing my hair tenderly, “are you not now a savage, a primitive man? There is no law here to prevent it. I hate the idea, too. But you must do it to preserve your own life. ”

“ I begged you to attack Burcoltz, to give him a reason for killing you! Some day, Weydman, I shall kill you with this knife.”
She thrust the weapon back into her girdle. I know that she will keep her word. Of the two of us, it is she—sweet, fragile, hyacinthine Elva—who is the savage. I still love her . . .
Thus ended the message. There was no bloodstain there. Jamieson looked up and spoke to me:
“She killed him while he was writing that he loved her! The spots on the cloth—she wiped her hands—”
“I understand,” I interrupted.
But did I understand? Can any man understand? ”

“ When the time was come, I gathered four of my friends, all of them trustworthy men, chartered a small steamer, and set sail for Paradise. We arrived in due time. A mound on the beach caught my attention the moment I had put my feet on the shore, and I was afraid. But the person who had been buried there was certainly neither Nokes nor his wife, for the skeleton was more than six feet in length. We left it, and made haste toward the center of the island. ”