“Oh,” she moaned painfully, as she furiously embraced him, “if they have killed him, they will kill you as well.”
“Catherine, whatever betides, my eldest brother awaits me; Catherine, you know that I love you.”
“Oh, stay, stay,” she cried, only knowing one thing—that her beloved talked of leaving her.
“But, honor, Catherine—my murdered brother! vengeance!”
“Oh, what an unhappy girl I am,” moaned she, collapsing, palpitating but rigid in the horseman’s arms.
Resigned, for she at last comprehended that the brother’s summons was an order, she glided to the ground after a farewell kiss.
He turned his eyes, sighed and wavered for a time; but, attracted by the imperative order received, he set his horse to the gallop, and flung Catherine a final farewell.
The lackey followed him across the country.
Catherine remained on the ground, where she had dropped, barring the way with her body.
Almost immediately a man appeared on the hill, striding towards the farm. In his rapid course he could not fail to stumble on the body. He staggered and rolled in the fall, and his groping hands touched the inert form.