The woman stopped abruptly. “Carmen!” she whispered in awed tones, “did God strike him dead?”
“I don’t know, Anita––but come! No!” clinging to the woman’s skirt; “Anita dear, do not go in there! Leave him! Come away with me!”
The woman’s eyes were wild, her hair loose and disheveled. “Caramba!” she cried, “but we will make sure that the beast is dead before we go! And if we leave this blade in his heart, it may be a warning to others of his kind!”
“No, Anita––no! God will not let you kill him! You must not! Your murder-thoughts will kill you if you do! Come! Listen––it is a steamboat whistle! Oh, Anita––if it is going up the river––we can take it––”
Ana hesitated. “But––leave him? He may––”
“Yes, Anita, yes; leave him with God!” pleaded the girl excitedly. “Come away, Anita––”
“But where, child?” asked the bewildered woman.
“To Simití!”
“Simití! Never! Why––why, my father would kill me!”
“No, Anita dear; he loves you; he prays for you; he wants 248 you! Oh, Anita, come! It is right––it is just what God has planned, I know! Pin my dress together, and then hurry!”