I swear to you that to-morrow I will send you twenty thousand ducats." With contemptuous coldness Szilard replied: "Surrender, I will not bargain." "You won't bargain, you crushed worm you! The mouth of my pistol is on a level with your forehead.

I have only to press my finger and your head would be shattered--and yet you dare to have it out with me?
Do you want to save your head ?" "I mean to have yours," said Szilard and he drew a step nearer to the adventurer.
"My head, eh?
Ha, ha, ha! You would have it would you, and have it here! Take it then!" At that moment a piercing shriek startled the two deadly antagonists and in the adjoining room a white figure fell prone upon the floor.
The next moment there was a loud report and Fatia Negra fell back lifeless on the bear skin carpet.
At the very moment when he had laughed aloud and cried: "Take it then!" he had suddenly put the mouth of the pistol into his own mouth and fired it off.

The heavy charge blew his head to bits, Szilard felt a warm red rain showering down upon him.
So Fatia Negra, after all, did not give up his head, the pistol shot had annihilated it.
And nobody ever knew who Fatia Negra really was..