"By Heaven!" the filibuster exclaimed in a terrible voice, "It is the worse for you, butcher, that you remind me I am Montbarts the exterminator. L'Olonnais, prepare the fire under the barbacoas of the boucan."
An indescribable terror seized on all the hearers of this order, which clearly expressed to what a horrible punishment the Count was condemned; Don Stenio himself, in spite of his indomitable pride, felt a chill at his heart.
But at this moment, the monk, who had hitherto remained motionless on his couch, and apparently insensible to what was going on, rose with a painful effort, and leaning on the shoulders of Doña Clara and her brother, tottered forward, and knelt with them to the filibuster.
"Pity," he exclaimed, "pity, in Heaven's name!"
"No," Montbarts replied harshly, "This man is condemned."
"I implore you, brother, be merciful," the monk went on to urge him.
All at once the Count drew two pistols from his doublet, and pointed one at Doña Clara, while he placed the other against his own forehead.
"Of what use is it to implore a tiger," he said, "I die, but by my own hands, and I die avenged," and he pulled the trigger.
The double detonation was blended in one.
The Count fell dead on the ground; the second shot badly aimed did not strike Doña Clara, but Fray Arsenio, and laid him dying at the foot of his assassin. The last word of the poor monk was, "pity!"