"Who! He is the foulest creature on God's earth. Oh, God in heaven! why was he born?"
"Who is he?"
He bowed his head where he stood before her and beads of sweat started from his brow.
"Cursed be the hour when that man was born!" he said in an awful whisper.
Then Mona's despair came upon her like a torrent, and she wept long. In the bitterness of her heart she cried:
"Cursed indeed, cursed forever! Dan, Dan, you must kill him—you must kill that man!"
But at the sound of that word from her own lips the spirit of revenge left her on the instant, and she cried, "No, no, not that." Then she went down on her knees and made a short and piteous prayer for forgiveness for her thought. "O Father," she prayed, "forgive me. I did not know what I said. But Ewan is dead! O Father, our dear Ewan is murdered. Some black-hearted man has killed him. Vengeance is Thine. Yes, I know that. O Father, forgive me. But to think that Ewan is gone forever, and that base soul lives on. Vengeance is Thine; but, O Father, let thy vengeance fall upon him. If it is Thy will, let Thy hand be on him. Follow him, Father; follow him with Thy vengeance—"
She had flung herself on her knees by the settle, her upturned eyes wide open, and her two trembling hands held above her head. Dan stood beside her, and as she prayed a deep groan came up from his heart, his breast swelled, and his throat seemed to choke. At last he clutched her by the shoulders and interrupted her prayer, and cried, "Mona, Mona, what are you saying—what are you saying? Stop, stop!"
She rose to her feet. "I have done wrong," she said, more quietly. "He is in God's hands. Yes, it is for God to punish him."
Then Dan said, in a heart-rending voice: