She stopped abruptly, so he added with a laugh, 'Your friends?'
'I could not,' she said simply. 'By forgetting friends you rob yourself of pleasure; by forgetting enemies you make yourself coward.'
Lamont gazed at the small face eagerly. 'You would seek for revenge, then?'
'It would be duty,' she returned, with new sternness. 'If it is right to do good to a friend, it must also be right to punish an enemy. If anyone should kill my heart with sorrow, I would give life and strength to the cause of vengeance. I should never turn back.'
A gust of hot wind sighed through the dreary tree. The branches shifted with sullen movements. But, as she ceased speaking, a brown object bounded through the rustling leaves and lay on the grass before them, gazing upward with ghastly mirth.
Lamont started back with white face, and crossed himself hurriedly. But Menotah only laughed. 'The Wind Spirit is throwing skulls at us. But why are you frightened?'
He pointed at the symbol of death. 'It is a bad omen,' he said huskily. 'It means approaching evil.'
'To me?' asked Menotah, astounded at this fresh wisdom.
'Or to me—perhaps to both.'
She smiled and shook her small head. 'Ah! but you are wrong; I should only despise a God, who could only warn me by rolling a skull at my feet. My heart has always been happy; I know the God would never harm me.'