"Hush--hush!" she said, in a low, terrified whisper. "Look! how still he stands! how pale he seems! Do not speak--do not move--hush! he must not hear your voice--I will go to him and tell him all--all--" She rose and stretched out her arms with a gesture of entreaty: "Guido! Guido!"
With a sudden chilled awe at my heart I looked toward the spot that thus riveted her attention--all was shrouded in deep gloom. She caught my arm.
"Kill him!" she whispered, fiercely--"kill him, and then I will love you! Ah!" and with an exclamation of fear she began to retire swiftly backward as though confronted by some threatening figure. "He is coming--nearer! No, no, Guido! You shall not touch me--you dare not--Fabio is dead and I am free--free!" She paused--her wild eyes gazed upward--did she see some horror there? She put up both hands as though to shield herself from some impending blow, and uttering a loud cry she fell prone on the stone floor insensible. Or dead? I balanced this question indifferently, as I looked down upon her inanimate form. The flavor of vengeance was hot in my mouth, and filled me with delirious satisfaction. True, I had been glad, when my bullet whizzing sharply through the air had carried death to Guido, but my gladness had been mingled with ruthfulness and regret. NOW, not one throb of pity stirred me--not the faintest emotion of tenderness, Ferrari's sin was great, but SHE tempted him--her crime outweighed his. And now--there she lay white and silent--in a swoon that was like death--that might be death for aught I knew--or cared! Had her lover's ghost indeed appeared before the eyes of her guilty conscience? I did not doubt it--I should scarcely have been startled had I seen the poor pale shadow of him by my side, as I musingly gazed upon the fair fallen body of the traitress who had wantonly wrecked both our lives.
"Ay, Guido," I muttered, half aloud--"dost see the work? Thou art avenged, frail spirit--avenged as well as I--part thou in peace from earth and its inhabitants!--haply thou shalt cleanse in pure fire the sins of thy lower nature, and win a final pardon; but for her--is hell itself black enough to match HER soul?"
And I slowly moved toward the stairway; it was time, I thought, with a grim resolve--TO LEAVE HER! Possibly she was dead--if not--why then she soon would be! I paused irresolute--the wild wind battered ceaselessly at the iron gateway, and wailed as though with a hundred voices of aerial creatures, lamenting. The torches were burning low, the darkness of the vault deepened. Its gloom concerned me little--I had grown familiar with its unsightly things, its crawling spiders, its strange uncouth beetles, the clusters of blue fungi on its damp walls. The scurrying noises made by bats and owls, who, scared by the lighted candles, were hiding themselves in holes and corners of refuge, startled me not at all--I was well accustomed to such sounds. In my then state of mind, an emperor's palace were less fair to me than this brave charnel house--this stone-mouthed witness of my struggle back to life and all life's misery. The deep-toned bell outside the cemetery struck ONE! We had been absent nearly two hours from the brilliant assemblage left at the hotel. No doubt we were being searched for everywhere--it mattered not! they would not come to seek us HERE. I went on resolutely toward the stair--as I placed my foot on the firm step of the ascent, my wife stirred from her recumbent position--her swoon had passed. She did not perceive me where I stood, ready to depart--she murmured something to herself in a low voice, and taking in her hand the falling tresses of her own hair she seemed to admire its color and texture, for she stroked it and restroked it and finally broke into a gay laugh--a laugh so out of all keeping with her surroundings, that it startled me more than her attempt to murder me.