She sat upright for some minutes after he had gone, and became conscious of that singular feeling that she had felt all the day, still lingering over her. As she sat there, she heard the little clock on the table beside her mother strike 11:30. She lay down again, and a few minutes later she was asleep.
The Reverend retired quickly and wished he could sleep and forget what he thought he had seen and heard. He was successful, and soon he was snoring. He could not understand upon being awakened slowly how long he had slept, but he became conscious that the light was burning brightly. He turned on his back, and when he could see clearly, his eyes fell upon Orlean.
She stood between him and the door, and he regarded her with a puzzled expression. Presently his eyes met hers, and he started up. What was the matter with her? Her eyes were like coals of burning fire; her stiff, bushy hair, was unbraided and stood away from her head giving her the appearance of a savage. But it was the expression of her eyes that disturbed him. He was held in a thraldom of fear as she slowly advanced toward the bed.
"Orlean," he at last managed to say. "What is the—"
"I have come at last to right a wrong," she began in an uncanny voice. Never had he seen her appear like that before, nor heard her speak in such a voice. She paused when she was beside the bed, and stood looking down upon him in that demented fashion. The cold perspiration broke out all over him, and he trembled.
"Oh, you told me my husband did not love me. While he worked to make us comfortable and happy out there on the claim you sat beside my sick bed and told me lies. While he grieved over the loss of our little one, you conceived a vile plot to 'get even,' Oh, you—liar! You sunk his soul into hell for spite. And then today—yesterday you reached your climax by having me go on the stand and testify to a greater lie! To save your wretched soul from disgrace, I swore to the most miserable lie a woman could tell! And now that you have made him suffer unjustly, and spoiled all life held for me, the judgment of God is upon you. The God that you have lied to and made a laughing idol of seeks restitution! So you sinner of all the sins, vengeance is mine, I will repay!"
So saying, she reached quickly and grasped the knife he had found years before, a desperate looking instrument with a six-inch blade and bone handle. She raised it high, and for the first time he was fully awakened. He attempted to struggle upward, but with a strength borne of excitement, she pushed him and he felled backward upon the bed.
"Orlean, my child, Orlean! My God—oh, my heaven, what do you—" he got no further. Quickly her poised arm descended, and the knife she held sank deeply into his heart.
"Oh, God—my beloved God—ah—oh—Christ! Christo...." he struggled upward while she stood over him with that same white expression upon her face. As the blood clogged in the cut the knife had made, and all the pulsations concentrated, struggled before ceasing their functions for all time, he turned his dying eyes toward her. Regarded her blindly for a moment, and then, dropped limply back from where he had risen, dead. In that moment she regained her sanity.
She regarded him a moment wildly, and then she closed her eyes to try to shut out the awful thing she had done and screamed long and wildly—just as she had done that night when she returned from Mrs. Merley's. Then, as the echo died away, the door was pushed open, and before her stood Ethel. One terrible look and the mad girl went quickly forward, halted, swayed, and then with a moan, raised the knife and sank it into her own breast. Drawing it forth she regarded Ethel wildly, and then, throwing the knife against the wall of the room, dropped dead at Ethel's feet, just as Glavis' steps were heard in the hall below.