"What is the matter?" I whispered quickly. "Are you ill?"
"No, no! Look!--look!--see! See what she is doing!"
I had only been gone a little over two minutes between the time I had last looked in the room and the moment I resumed my post of observation, but during that period the Marchesa, evidently afraid of the entrance of Pallanza, had given Bianca the fatal wine, and the girl was drinking it at the window. Madame Beltrami herself, with rather a pale face, but a devilish look in her eyes, had just set down her glass upon the table, empty. A moment after Bianca, having drained the fatal draught to the dregs, came across to the table and placed her glass beside that of the Marchesa's with a merry laugh.
"I am glad you persuaded me to have the wine, Signora. It is so refreshing."
"Yes, I think you will find it so," replied the Marchesa, with a strange smile.
The whole of this terrible scene had passed so rapidly that I had no time to interfere. My tongue clove to the roof of my mouth, as I saw Bianca drink the Borgian wine; yet with a mighty effort I was about to cry out, when Beltrami seized my arm in his powerful grasp, and dared me, with lurid eyes, to utter a sound.
The Marchesa, having completed her devilish work, was about to go, for I heard her say something to Bianca about seeing Pallanza on the stairs, when suddenly we heard Guiseppe's gay voice talking to Petronella, who strove to detain him; but with a merry laugh he brushed past her, and a moment afterwards was in the room. Standing there in the grasp of Beltrami, hidden by the curtains, there seemed to be a silence lasting an eternity; then we heard Guiseppe give a terrible cry of rage and fear, and despair,--
"Giulietta! you here! Demon! what are you doing?"
Slow and soft, like the hiss of a snake, came the answer,--
"Doing to her what I did to you."