Ulrich sprang from his horse in front of the guildhall and was received by the captain, who had commanded during his absence.
The Eletto hastily described the course of the brilliant, victorious march, and then asked what had happened.
The captain lowered his eyes in embarrassment, saying, in a low tone: "Nothing of great importance; but day before yesterday a wicked deed was committed, which will vex you.

The woman you love, the camp sibyl...." "Who?
What?
What do you mean ?" "She went to Zorrillo, and he--you must not be startled--he stabbed her." Ulrich staggered back, repeating, in a hollow tone "Stabbed!" Then seizing the other by the shoulder, he shrieked: "Stabbed! That means murdered-killed!" "He thrust his dagger into her heart, she must have died as quickly as if struck by lightning.

Then Zorrillo went away, God knows where.

Who could suspect, that the quiet man...." "You let him escape, helped the murderer get off, you dogs!" raved the wretched man.

"We will speak of this again.