"You can't do it!" she cried. "Then you do love her! You shall do
it! Do you hear me? You shall do it! You killed him! You got
rid of him! but you shall not get rid of me. I have the evidence,
all of it. The Archbishop will have it to-morrow. They shall hang
you! Do you hear me? They shall hang you!"

The woman's voice rose, it was loud and shrill. The man turned
slowly round without looking up, and stretched out his arms toward
the woman. She stopped and looked down at him. The fire glittered
for a moment and then died out of her eyes, her bosom heaved and
her lips began to tremble. With a cry she flung herself into his
arms, caught him around the neck, and pressed his face up close
against her cheek.

"Oh! Dick, Dick," she sobbed, "I do love you so! I can't live
without you! Not another hour, Dick! I do want you so much, so
much, Dick!"

The man shifted his right arm quickly, slipped a great Mexican
knife out of his sleeve, and passed his fingers slowly up the
woman's side until he felt the heart beat under his hand, then he
raised the knife, gripped the handle tight, and drove the keen
blade into the woman's bosom. The hot blood gushed out over his
arm, and down on his leg. The body, warm and limp, slipped down in
his arms. The man got up, pulled out the knife, and thrust it into
a sheath at his belt, unbuttoned the dress, and slipped it off of
the body. As he did this a bundle of papers dropped upon the
floor; these he glanced at hastily and put into his pocket. Then
he took the dead woman up in his arms, went out into the hall, and