"Joanna," said I, "for any harsh word I have spoke you in the past, for any pain you have suffered because of me, I do most surely grieve and would most humbly crave your forgiveness and for this generous act I—I—"
"Respect me?" said she in a small voice. "Ah, cannot you see—how you—hurt me?" And now all suddenly I did strange thing for, scarce knowing what I did, I caught her in my arms and kissed her hair, her eyes, her cold lips and then, half ashamed, turned to leave her.
"Stay!" said she, but I never heeded. "Martino!" she called, but I never paused; and then, being come to the mouth of the cave, I heard the quick, light sound of her feet behind me and as I stepped into the moonlight felt two arms that swung me aside, saw Joanna leap before me as the night-silence was split by a ringing, deafening roar; and then I had her in my arms and she, smiling up at me with blood upon her lips, hid her face in my breast. "Here in thine arms do I lie for the third time—and last, Martino!" she sighed, and so Resolution found us.
"What!" he gasped. "Oh, God! What—?"
"Some one has shot Joanna!"
"Aye, Martin, 'twas I!" and I saw the pistol yet smoking in his hand—"I shot her thinking 'twas you—Oh, God!"
"Nay, Resolution," said Joanna, opening her eyes. "You did very right—'twas only that I—being a woman—changed my mind—at the last. 'Twas I bid him—kill you, Martino—if you came forth, but I—I dreamed you—you would not leave me. Nay, let be, Resolution, I'm a-dying—yes!"
"Ah, forbid it, God—Oh, God of Mercies, spare her!" he cried, his hands and eyes uplift to the radiant, starry heavens.
"Nay, grieve not, Resolution—dear friend!" she murmured painfully. "For oh, 'tis—a good thing to die—by your hand and with—such reason! Martino, when—you shall wed your Joan—Damaris, say I—gave you to her with—my life because I loved you—better than life—and Death had—no fears. I go back to life—a better life—where I shall find you one day, Martino, and learn what—happiness is like—mayhap. Resolution," she whispered, "when I—am dead, do not let me lie a poor, pale thing to grieve over—bury me—bury me so soon as I—am dead. Dig me a grave—above the tide! Promise this!"
"I promise!"