madly
among the bee-hives, kicking them to fragments as the vicious insects
plied him with their stings. Basilio was tied with his face to the sun,
which poured its fierce rays into his eyes; for Nicolas was devoted to
the senora, and he had been determined to make matters as uncomfortable
for the ingrate as possible. Upon Basilio's unprotected body the bees
swarmed by hundreds, giving him a score of stings to one for the horse,
and he was utterly helpless to protect himself. Already the poison of a
thousand stings had been poured into his face and body; his features
were hideously swollen and distorted, and his chest was puffed out of
resemblance to a human shape, and was livid and ghastly.

Without a moment's hesitation, the senora flew through the gate and
went to the deliverance of Basilio, praying to God with every breath.
His cries were feeble, for his strength was nearly gone, and his
incredible agony, aided by the poison of the bees, had sent his wits
astray. For Violante to approach the maddened horse and the swarming
bees was to offer herself to death; but what cared she for that, when
another's life was at stake? Into this desperate situation she threw
herself. With the coolness of a trained horsewoman, she finally twisted
the fingers of one hand into the frantic horse's nostrils, bringing him
instantly under control. In another moment, unmindful of the stings
which the bees inflicted upon her face and hands, she had cut Basilio's
lashings and caught his shapeless body in her arms as it slipped to the
ground. Then, taking him under the arms, she dragged him, with uncommon
strength, from the enclosure and away from the murderous assaults of
the bees.

He moaned; his head rolled from one side to the other. His eyes were
closed by the swelling of the lids, and he could not see her; but even
had this not been so, he was past knowing her. She laid him down in the
shade of a great oak, and she saw from his faint and interrupted gasps
that in another moment all would be over with him. Unconscious of the
presence of her husband, who now stood reverently, with uncovered head,
behind her, she raised to heaven her blanched face and beautiful eyes,
and softly prayed, "Holy mother of Jesus, hear the prayer of thy
wretched daughter, and intercede for this unshriven spirit." She
glanced down at Basilio, and saw that he was dead. Feebly she staggered
to her feet, and, seeing her husband, cried out his name, stretched out