Hepworth Closs came forward and threw an arm around his sister's waist.
"What is it, Rachael? Who is hunting you down?" he said, tenderly. "No one shall hurt you while I am near."
She turned, threw her arms around his neck, and covered his face with passionate kisses. Then she turned to Lord Hope, held out her pale hands imploringly; and cried out in pathetic anguish:
"Oh, do not believe it! Do not believe it!"
But Lord Hope stepped back, and turned away his face. She knew that this motion was her doom.
"Let me look at the poniard," she said, with unnatural gentleness. "I have a right to examine the proofs brought against me."
Hannah Yates gave her the dagger. She looked at it earnestly a moment, laid one hand upon her heart, as if its beating stifled her, then lifted the other and struck.
"Now, my husband, will you kiss me? I have given them blood for blood, life for life!"
She fell in a heap at her husband's feet, and while death glazed over her eyes, reached up her arms to him.
He fell upon his knees, forgetting everything but the one dreadful fact that she was his wife, and dying. His face drooped to hers, for the lips were moving, and her eyes turned upon him with pathetic anxiety.