so. Exactly on the spot where the
electric stone had rested, a small circular mark, like a black bruise,
tainted the fair soft skin--a mark no larger than a small finger-ring.

"Death by electricity," said Dr. Morini quietly. "Must have been
instantaneous. The lightning-flash, or downward electric current,
lodged itself here, where this mark is, and passed directly through the
heart. Perfectly painless, but of course fatal. She has been dead some
time."

And, replacing the stone ornament in its former position, he stepped
back with a suggestive glance at Father Paul. I listened and saw--but I
was in a state of stupefaction. Dead? My beautiful, gay, strong Zara
DEAD? Impossible! I knelt beside her; I called her again and again by
every endearing and tender name I could think of; I kissed her sweet
lips. Oh, they were cold as ice, and chilled my blood! As one in a
dream, I saw Heliobas advance; he kissed her forehead and mouth; he
reverently unclasped the pearls from about her throat, and with them
took off the electric stone. Then Father Paul stepped slowly forward,
and in place of that once brilliant gem, now so dim and destitute of
fire, he laid a crucifix upon the fair and gentle breast, motionless
for ever.

At sight of this sacred symbol, some tense cord seemed to snap in my
brain, and I cried out wildly:

"Oh, no, no! Not that! That is for the dead; Zara is not dead! It is
all a mistake--a mistake! She will be quite well presently; and she
will smile and tell you how foolish you were to think her dead! Dead?
She cannot be dead; it is impossible--quite impossible!" And I broke
into a passion of sobs and tears.

Very gently and kindly Dr. Morini drew me away, and by dint of friendly
persuasion, in which there was also a good deal of firm determination,
led me into the hall, where he made me swallow a glass of wine. As I
could not control my sobs, he spoke with some sternness:

"Mademoiselle, you can do no good by giving way in this manner. Death
is a very beautiful and solemn thing, and it is irreverent to show
unseemly passion in such a great Presence. You loved your friend--let
it be a comfort to you that she died painlessly. Control yourself, in
order to assist in rendering her the last few gentle services
necessary; and try to console the desolate brother, who looks in real
need of encouragement."

These last words roused me. I forced back my tears, and dried my eyes.

"I will, Dr. Morini," I said, in a