"Tell me the truth," she moaned. "How many minutes have I to live?"
The physician looked down at her with a grave pity in his kindly eyes.
"Only as long as the dagger remains in the wound," he answered, gently. "When that is removed you will bleed to death in a minute."
She clasped both hands around the murderous steel as if to drive it deeper into her heart.
"Let it remain there, then," she gasped, "I have something to say before—I go hence!"
"Great Heaven! who has done this?" exclaimed a shocked voice.
They all looked around. It was Captain Ernscliffe who spoke. He knelt down by his wife and looked at the murderous dagger whose hilt she grasped, with eyes full of horror. The pain in her face softened. She put out one hand to him, and he clasped it in his own.
"Lawrence—I have been—cruelly murdered!" she moaned. "Let someone take my dying deposition."
The manager hurriedly produced pencil and paper.
"I went into Madame De Lisle's dressing-room," she began. "She had not come in, and I waited a little while, wishing to speak to her. Have you put that down?"