“You are here, I suppose, sir, for the purpose of attempting to interfere with my domestic arrangements; but let me assure you that you shall hang to one of these trees rather than be even admitted within the house!”
“Your threats are brave enough, at all events,” said Harding, with a smile. “But do you not think it would better become a woman to assist me in a duty of humanity?”
“What does she know of humanity?” demanded a sharp female voice, close to the group; and on turning his head Harding saw the same woman, whose story of deception and betrayal had so much interested him two hours before.
“What do you here?” demanded the señora, with one of those scowling looks for which her face seemed made. “Must I have you, too, thrust from my gate!”
“Your gate!” hissed the woman, advancing nearer to the object of her hatred, and flashing insane glances from those wild, haggard eyes. “Your gate! Impostor, witch, begone! Must I have you thrust from my gate?”
There is something very appalling in the glance of an eye touched with insanity; and the Englishwoman shrunk from it, if not in fear, at least in dread. But, at the same moment, she saw Margarita returning with the water, and called to her—
“Go back, my daughter, and send some of the men here.”
“To thrust me forth from your gate, I suppose,” said the woman, advancing still closer, and fumbling with her right hand under the end of her mantilla.
“Yes,” said the señora fiercely; “will you go without violence?”
“No!” the maniac almost screamed. “No!” she repeated; and with the word, she suddenly drew her hand from its concealment, flourishing the dagger which she had shown Harding, and with a bound like that of a tiger, sprang upon her enemy and buried the steel in her heart! Harding dropped Grant, and rushed forward to prevent another blow, but his interference was too late! The señora screamed wildly, and with a convulsive gasp fell to the ground, quite dead!