Large drops rolled from her brow, and, gasping, she continued more
indistinctly:

"There is one to stand between us now, even blackbrowed Death! and
now, as I speak, I see his shadow flung over me. I am dying, and if
I am lost, you are to blame! you, and you only! You a man of God! You
forgive my sins, and give me a passport to heaven! Padre, I know you,
in all your hypocrisy, and I know that, if there be a God, you have
outraged His every law! You have led me astray! You have brought me
to this! Padre, I am sinful, full well I know it; for this is an hour
when the barrier which hides the secret soul is thrown down, and every
deed and thought stands up boldly for itself. I have not served God!
But oh! I would not change places with you, leader, teacher, guide,
consecrated priest, as you are--for you have mocked him! Yes, mocked
him! set aside his written word, and instead of Bible truths you told
me of Saints, and Relics, and Miracles! You bade me worship the cross,
and never once mentioned Him who consecrated it with his agony and
blood! In my childhood I believed your legends and miracles, and
trusted to such as you to save me. A dreadful curse will rest upon
your head, for you came in sheep's clothing, and devoured many
precious souls! Padre, I--I--" In vain she strove to articulate,
further utterance was denied her. The ghastly hue of death settled
upon her face. She lifted her eyes to heaven as in prayer; vacantly
they wandered to the face of the Padre, now well-nigh as pale as her
own; then slowly closed forever. A slight quiver passed over the lips,
a faint moan, and Inez was at rest. For long her wearied spirit had
cried "Peace! peace!" and now she laid herself down and slept the
long, unbroken sleep of death.

"Oh! you have yearned for rest,
May you find it in the regions of the blest."

As she had died without the pale of the church, they refused the
lifeless form a narrow bed in consecrated ground. Even the ordinary
service for the dead was entirely omitted; and, without a prayer, they
committed her to the silent tomb. The kind old dame, remembering her
grief at the secret burial of her noble friend, obtained permission to
lay her by his side, and, with the fierce howlings of the tempest for
her funereal dirge, they consigned Inez--the proud, beautiful, gifted,
yet unfortunate Inez--to rest. Peace, Inez, to thy memory, and may the
sod lie lightly on thy early grave!

CHAPTER XXXII.

"There'