Her fingers twitched in her lap, and then clasped very tight, as she went on:
“You never hurt him, and yet he’s tried to kill you in the most awful way. Perhaps you’ll die now—perhaps you’ll die to-night—but no, no, you shall not!” she cried in sudden fright and eagerness, as she got up and leaned over him. “You shall not die; you shall live—for a while—oh! yes, for a while yet,” she added, with a pitiful yearning in her voice; “just for a little while—till you love me, and tell me so! Oh, how could that devil try to kill you!”
She suddenly drew herself up.
“I’ll kill him and his bear too—now, now, while you lie there sleeping. And when you wake I’ll tell you what I’ve done, and you’ll—you’ll love me then, and tell me so, perhaps. Yes, yes, I’ll—”
She said no more, for her brother entered with the brandy.
“Put it there,” she said, pointing to the table. “You watch him till I come. I’ll be back in an hour; and then, when he wakes, we’ll bathe him in the hot water and brandy.”
“Who told you about hot water and brandy?” he asked her, curiously.
She did not answer him, but passed through the door and down the hall till she came to Nic’s bedroom; she went in, took a pair of pistols from the wall, examined them, found they were fully loaded, and hurried from the room.
About a half-hour later she appeared before the house which once had belonged to Vanne Castine. The mortgage had been foreclosed, and the place had passed into the hands of Sophie and Magon Farcinelle; but Castine had taken up his abode in the house a few days before, and defied anyone to put him out.
A light was burning in the kitchen of the house. There were no curtains to the window, but an old coat had been hung up to serve the purpose, and light shone between a sleeve of it and the window-sill. Putting her face close to the window, the girl could see the bear in the corner, clawing at its chain and tossing its head from side to side, still panting and angry from the fight.