"Without weakness," she said, "without hesitation, or mercy, by mine own hands if needs be. I have done it to another: I will do it again—to myself. Atone, atone—wipe out the stain! A life for a life! That is right." She swayed and caught one of the scenes for support. "That is—just! God, how my throat burns, and my head, it is dizzy—and my eyes have gone blind! Ah, it is passing—passing! Now I can see. I can—walk!"
She clung to the scenery for another second, and then pushed it away and moved to the door, staggering a little like one who is drugged.
It was evening. The rain had ceased, and the moon rose full and pale with a halo about it. In the distance clouds were gathering, and the waters under the mill were speckled with light.
Kaya sat by the window, leaning on the sill with her arms and gazing down at the wheel: "It is deep there," she said, "A moment of falling through the air—a splash, and it will be over. I am not—afraid."
She shuddered a little, and her eyes were fixed on the flashes of silver as if fascinated. She could not tear them away. "How black it is under the wheel!" she murmured, "If I fell on the spokes—" Then she shuddered again.
"Perhaps I shall not die," she said, "Perhaps I shall live and be crippled, with my body broken. Oh, God—to live like that! I must—I must aim for the pool beyond, where the water lies deep and the moonlight freckles the—surface."
Then she dropped her head on her arms and the words came again: "I have tried my best, Velasco, but the heart is gone out of me. Don't be angry and call me a coward. I tried—but I am weak now and I am afraid. My voice is gone, and there is so little for a woman to do. I tried everything, Velasco, but my strength—is—failing. If I could walk, I would go to you and say good-bye; but I don't know where you are. They say you have gone and I don't know where."
She leaned a little further forward on the sill, still hiding her eyes. "He won't know," she whispered under her breath, "He will never know. Velasco! Velasco—good-bye."
Her body lay across the sill now, and she opened her heavy lids and gazed downwards, half eagerly, half fearfully. The water was dark and the moon-light on the surface glittered. The wheel was below, huge and gaunt like a spectre; silent, with its spokes dipping into the pool.