took up the pin again. The
miserable woman fancied that she already felt the little blade creeping
through her flesh and blood on its way to her heart. For Regina had said
she would take a long time to kill her. It must have been a strong
reason that could keep her silent still, if she knew the answer to the
question.

Regina turned her head very slowly and looked coldly down at the
agonised face.

"I am tired," she said. "I cannot wait any longer."

Settimia's eyes seemed to be starting from her head, and her dry lips
were stretched till they cracked, and she thought she had screamed
again; but she had not, for her throat was paralysed with fear. Regina
rose upon her knees beside the pillow, with the pin in her right hand.

"Where is Corbario?" she asked, looking down. "If you will not tell I
shall hurt you."

Settimia's lips moved, as if she were trying to speak, but no words came
from them. Regina got up from the floor, went to the washstand and
poured some water into the glass, for she thought it possible that the
woman was really unable to utter a sound because her throat was parched
with fear. But she could speak a little as soon as Regina left her side,
and the last peril seemed a few seconds less near.

"For the love of God, don't kill me yet," she moaned. "Let me speak
first!"

Regina came back, knelt down, and set the glass on the floor, beside the
pin.

"That is all I want," she said quietly, "that you should speak."

"Water," moaned Settimia, turning her eyes to the glass.

Regina held up her head a little and set the tumbler to her lips, and
she drank eagerly. The fear of death is more parching than wound-fever
or passion.

"Now you can surely talk a little," Regina said.

"Why do you wish to know where he is?" Settimia asked in a weak voice.
"Are the police looking for him? What has he done? Why do you want me to
betray him?"

"These are too many questions," Regina answered. "I have been told to
make you tell where he is, and I will. That is enough."

"I do not know where he is."

In an instant the point of the sharp little blade was pressing against
the woman's throat, harder and harder; one second more and it would
pierce the skin and draw blood.

"Stop," she screamed, with a convulsion of her whole body. "He is in the
house!"

CHAPTER XIX

With a single movement Regina was on her feet, for she had been taken by
surprise, and her first instinct was to be ready for some ne