"Truly, Señor, as speedily as may be, as I would crush a snake. Yet who would seek vengeance on a worm?"
"Yet do I seek vengeance!" cried I, upstarting to my feet. "Vengeance for my wasted years, vengeance on him hath been the ruin of my house, on him that, forcing me to endure anguish of mind and shame of body, hath made of me the poor, outcast wretch I am. Ha—'tis vengeance I do live for!"
"Then do you live to a vain end, young sir! For vengeance is an emptiness and he that seeketh it wasteth himself."
"Now tell me, Don Federigo," I questioned, "seek you not the life of this
Belvedere that slew your son?"
"'Tis my prayer to see him die, Señor, yet do I live to other, and I pray to nobler purpose—"
"Why, then," quoth I fiercely, "so is it my prayer to watch my enemy die and I do live to none other purpose—"
"Spoke like true, bully lad, Martino!" cried a voice, and glancing about, I espied Joanna leaning in the opening to the cave. She was clad in her male attire as I had seen her first, save that by her side she bore the bejewelled Spanish rapier. Thus lolled she, smiling on me half-contemptuous, hand poised lightly on the hilt of her sword, all graceful insolence.
"Eye for eye, Martino," said she, nodding. "Tooth for tooth, blood for blood: 'tis a good law and just, yes! How say you, Señor Don Federigo; you agree—no?"
With an effort Don Federigo got to his feet and, folding his cloak about his spare form, made her a prodigious deep obeisance.
"'Tis a law ancient of days, Señorita," said he.