t it was still.

Raising himself quickly, he threw the rays of the lantern full upon the
woman standing before him, a small crucifix clasped in her hands. Under
his searching gaze her face grew pale and ghastly as that upon the
couch.

"You have killed him!" he said, slowly, with terrible emphasis.

She made the sign of the cross. "Holy Mother, forgive!" she muttered;
then, though she still quailed beneath his look, she exclaimed, half
defiantly, "I have not wronged you; you have your reward, and justice
has overtaken him, as you said it would!"

"That is not justice," said Mr. Britton, pointing to the couch; "it is
murder, and you are his murderer. You should have let the law take its
course."

"The law!" she laughed, mockingly; "would your law avenge my father's
death, or the wrongs I have suffered? No! My father had no son to avenge
him, I had no brother, but I have avenged him and myself. I have
followed him all these years, waiting till the right time should come,
waiting for this, dreaming of it night and day! I have had my revenge,
and it was sweet! I did not kill him in his sleep, Senor; I wakened him,
just to let him know he was in my power, just to hear him plead for
mercy----"

"Hush!" said Mr. Britton, firmly, for the woman seemed to have gone mad.
"You do not know what you are saying. You must get ready to return with
me."

She grew calm at once and her face lighted with a strange smile.

"I am ready to go with you, Senor," she said, at the same time clasping
the crucifix suddenly to her breast.

With the last word she fell to the ground and a slight tremor shook her
frame for an instant. Quickly Mr. Britton lifted her and bore her to the
light, but life was already extinct. Within her clasped hands,
underneath the crucifix, they found the little poisoned stiletto.

_Chapter XXXIX_

AT THE TIME APPOINTED

For a year and a half Darrell worked uninterruptedly at Ophir, his
constantly increasing commissions from eastern States testifying to his
marked ability as a mining expert.

Notwithstanding the incessant demands upon his time, he still adhered to
his old rule, reserving a few hours out of each twenty-four, which he
devoted to scientific or literary study, as his mood impelled. He soon
found himself again drawn irresistibly towards the story begun during
his stay at the Hermitage, but temporarily laid aside on his return
east. He carefully reviewed the synopsis, which he had writte