o the injury by taking away his life. Are you
yet satisfied, madam? Are you satisfied with having embittered my days
by your injustice and unworthy suspicions--by having reduced your
unfortunate, yet not guilty sister, to the state of an unhappy, lonely
woman, now suing in vain for pardon at your feet; by having been the
occasion of the death of your brother by marriage--her husband and my
friend? Say, madam, are you yet satisfied, or will you have more victims
to your unbelief?"

Emilia answered not, but continued with her face averted.

"Be it so, then, madam;" replied Don Perez; and, before any one was
aware of his intention, he drew his sword, and fell upon it. "Now,
Emilia, let the sacrifice of my life be a proof to you of my sincerity.
As I hope for pardon, I have told the truth;" and Don Perez fell on his
back, and was dead.

Emilia started round when he fell, and threw herself down by his side in
horror and amazement. The film that passion had thrown over her eyes was
removed, as she witnessed the last melancholy result of her unbelief.
When Don Perez ceased speaking, she threw herself on his body, in an
agony of grief.--"I do, I do believe--Perez, I do, I do! Oh! indeed I do
believe--speak to me, Perez--O God, he is dying!--Sister, Teresa, come,
come, he'll speak to you--he's not angry with you--Sister, sister,
speak--O God! O God!" screamed the unhappy woman, "he's dead--and I have
murdered him!"--and she dashed her head upon the floor. Teresa hastened
to her sister, and held her in her arms, while the tears poured fast. It
was some time before reason resumed her seat; at last, exhausted by the
violence of her feelings, she was relieved with a flood of tears.

"Who is it?--you, Teresa--kind sister, whom I have used so ill--I do
believe you--I do believe, Teresa; God forgive me! kiss me, sister, and
say that you forgive me--for am I not punished?"

"It is all my fault," answered Teresa, bursting into tears: "Oh! how
wicked, how foolish have I been!"

"No, no, sister, your fault is small, compared to mine; you allowed your
passion to overcome you, but it arose from an excess of love, the best
feeling in our nature--the only remnant of heaven left us since our
fall. I too have allowed my passion to overcome me; but whence has it
arisen?--from hatred and jealousy, feelings which were implanted by
demons, and which create a hell, wherever they command. But it is done,
and repentance comes too late."

The un