She turned up the lamp and saw the Judge sitting dead in the chair, the scarlet stain on his clean ruffled shirt holding her for a moment in speechless horror.
Screaming at last, she rushed to the ballroom door and shouted:
“De Lawd hab mussy! De ghost done kill de Judge—Stab ’im fro de heart!”
The music stopped with a crash and the crowd rushed into the hall.
Stella stared at the lifeless form, her beautiful face whiter than the dead, turned to the masqueraders huddled in a group, drew herself proudly erect, pointed to the door and said:
“Go!”
Silently and quickly they left, and as the last beat of their horses’ hoofs died away in the distance she lifted her face from her father’s hand which she had covered with kisses, and groaned: