She made the sign of the cross. "Holy Mother, forgive!" she muttered;
then, though she still quailed beneath his look, she exclaimed, half
defiantly, "I have not wronged you; you have your reward, and justice
has overtaken him, as you said it would!"
"That is not justice," said Mr. Britton, pointing to the couch; "it is
murder, and you are his murderer. You should have let the law take its
course."
"The law!" she laughed, mockingly; "would your law avenge my father's
death, or the wrongs I have suffered? No! My father had no son to avenge
him, I had no brother, but I have avenged him and myself. I have
followed him all these years, waiting till the right time should come,
waiting for this, dreaming of it night and day! I have had my revenge,
and it was sweet! I did not kill him in his sleep, Señor; I wakened him,
just to let him know he was in my power, just to hear him plead for
mercy----"
"Hush!" said Mr. Britton, firmly, for the woman seemed to have gone mad.
"You do not know what you are saying. You must get ready to return with
me."
She grew calm at once and her face lighted with a strange smile.
"I am ready to go with you, Señor," she said, at the same time clasping
the crucifix suddenly to her breast.
With the last word she fell to the ground and a slight tremor shook her
frame for an instant. Quickly Mr. Britton lifted her and bore her to the
light, but life was already extinct. Within her clasped hands,
underneath the crucifix, they found the little poisoned stiletto.