“I don’t know, but he was rich.”

“Well, he’s certainly proved himself to be your friend.”

“He has . . . yes, he has . . .”

Thus, by some strange irony of fate, all the colonel’s worldly goods came into my possession. I considered refusing the inheritance. Taking even a penny from his estate seemed odious to me, worse even than being a hired killer. I thought about it for three days, and every time I bumped up against the argument that my refusal might arouse suspicion. At the end of the three days, I settled on a compromise: I would accept the inheritance and secretly give it all away, little by little. It wasn’t just a matter of scruples; it was also a way of redeeming my crime through an act of virtue—by doing so, my accounts would be settled.

I made preparations and set off for the town. The closer I got, the more vividly I recalled the whole sad adventure; an air of tragedy surrounded the town, and the colonel’s shadow seemed to loom out at me from every side. My imagination re-created every word, every gesture, the whole horrendous night of the murder . . .

Murder or self-defense? Surely the latter, for I had been defending myself from an attack, and in my defense . . . It was an unfortunate accident, just one of those things. I gladly seized upon this idea. And I weighed up all the aggravating circumstances, the blows, the insults . . . I knew very well that the fault lay not with the colonel, but with his illness, which had made him surly, even wicked. But I forgave him everything; nothing, though, could erase what had happened that fateful night. However, I took into account that the colonel could not in any event have lived much longer; he was clearly at death’s door—he himself knew it and said so. How long would he have lived? Two weeks? One? Perhaps even less? It wasn’t a life, it was a tattered old toe-rag of a life, if even that could describe the poor man’s continual suffering. And who knows, perhaps our struggle and his death were simply coincidental? It was possible, even probable; indeed it could not have been otherwise. I seized upon this idea too.

When I reached the town, I felt my heart sink, and I wanted to turn back, but I pulled myself together and carried on. Everyone congratulated me. The priest explained the various provisions of the will, the usual charitable gifts and legacies, all the while praising my Christian patience and devotion in serving the colonel, a man who, for all his harsh behavior, had nonetheless shown his gratitude.

“Indeed,” I said, looking away.