"Yes, it is I, Agueda. The river is rising very high. It has come up quickly. I felt it against my foot. Can you not try to catch some tree or branch?"
"Oh, God! Oh, God! Save me!" It was Felisa's voice. "Why did I ever come to this accursed island? Why, oh, why? How dared you tell me that I was safe! Safe with you? Oh, my God! Safe with you! Are you greater than God? If He cannot save me, can you?"
As Felisa shrieked these words, which were almost drowned by the sound of the swiftly rushing waters, she raised her small fist and struck at Beltran. The jewels on her fingers cut his lip.
His musical voice, patient and still tender, answered as if to a naughty child.
"Careful! you will throw yourself off! Agueda, why must you come here frightening my cousin? When the moon rises she will see the falseness of your story."
As if to convict him out of his own mouth, the moon suddenly shone through a rift in the black clouds which edged the horizon. It discovered to Agueda Felisa clasped to a resting-place that was her own by right. It showed her Beltran holding the little form in his arms, as once he had held her own. It showed her Beltran covering the blonde head with passionate kisses, as once he had covered her darker one.
Agueda clutched the chimney for support. Death was no worse than this.
Felisa opened her trembling lids and gazed abroad on the expanse of waters. Wail after wail issued from her white lips and mingled with the wind that blew wantonly the tendrils of her hair. She struck Beltran in the face again, she pushed him from her with the fury of a maniac.
Great trees and branches were pounding against the roof. The peons had climbed to the highest point, and now, as a trunk came tearing down toward them, with a pitying glance at those they left behind, and a chuckle at their own presence of mind, they caught at it, and were whirled away to death or to succour.