The staring eyes regained a momentary glimmer of consciousness at the sound of the girl's voice, and she lifted her hand again as though it still held the crucifix.
"Until—the day—of—" and then the sentence trailed along into the eternal silences of the unseen land.
"Señora!" called Raquel, appealingly; but Ana caught her by the shoulder and looked in her face, and said:
"God help you, Raquel Estevan! To the recording angel she has taken that oath."
Keith Bryton closed the door on the weeping women, and walked out through the old refectory to the inner court, where he met Fernando.
"What is it, señor?" he asked. Bryton looked at him much as though he had not been there.
"I—I scarcely know," he said, dully. "You had better—"
"But you have the face of a ghost!" interrupted Fernando. "Something has happened—in there?"
"I think so," agreed the American, recovering under Fernando's curious gaze. "Some one is ill—or—"