Again Rayel stepped forward, and again I heard the crayon grating on the wall.

Then he stood aside.

Great God! There were drops of blood dripping from the knife now.

Rayel sank down upon the floor and covered his eyes with his hands.

I stood there, dumb with fear and horror, looking first upon him and then upon the picture.
The silence of the night was unbroken save by those slow footsteps in the street to which I had listened before retiring.