"'"That must be so," I replied, opening my door with the fixed purpose of
moving to some other street the next day.

"'A few moments later I was in my room; I always carried my latchkey, so
as not to have to disturb my good Jose. Nevertheless, he was waiting for
me that night. My misfortunes of the 15th and 16th of November were not
yet ended.

"'"What has happened?" I asked him, in surprise.

"'"Major Falcon was here," he replied, with evident agitation, "waiting
for you from eleven till half-past two, and he told me that, if you came
home to sleep, you had better not undress, as he would be back at
daybreak."

"'Those words left me trembling with grief and alarm, as if they had
predicted my own death to me. I knew that my beloved father, at his home
in Jean, had been suffering frequent and dangerous attacks of his chronic
disease. I had written to my brothers that, if there should be a sudden
and fatal termination of the sickness, they were to telegraph Major
Falcon, who would inform me in some suitable way. I had not the slightest
doubt, therefore, that my father had died.

"'I sat down in an arm-chair to wait for the morning and my friend, and,
with them, the news of my great misfortune. God only knows what I suffered
in those two cruel hours of waiting. All the while, three distinct ideas
were inseparably joined in my mind; though they seemed unlike, they took
pains, as it were, to keep in a dreadful group. They were: my losses at
play, my meeting with the tall woman, and the death of my revered father.