A slight sneer curled the haughty lip of the count; but, considering his vengeance snatched from him for the present, he gave his men the order to ground their arms, but to stand firm. Assuming, then, the most insinuating address in his power—and he was far from ungraceful—he approached the incensed girl, and drew her aside.
“Margarita,” said he, taking her hand, “you must pardon an act which is prompted only by love for yourself; and you must not judge too harshly of one who feels that the dearest price of earth has been unfairly snatched from his grasp. Both these men have been instrumental in blasting my hopes of obtaining this hand; I feel that while they live, I can never rebuild the vision I have indulged—perhaps their death may not assist me—but,” and he raised himself suddenly to his full height, and spoke in a deep, determined tone, the meaning of which she knew too well, “I shall at least be avenged!”
“What do you mean?” she asked, trembling.
“I mean,” he replied, calmly, “that since my hopes are wrecked at any rate, their death will give me revenge, without harm to my interests—they must die!”
“And dare you think that I would marry one whose hands were bloody with such a deed?” she asked, proudly.
“Listen to me,” said he, laying his hand on her arm; “my hands are not now bloody—yet you reject me. If I spare these men, you will reject me still—and I shall lose my revenge, and not gain your love.”
“Perhaps—” she commenced, but paused.
“If you will be mine,” he interrupted, perceiving that the moment had arrived, “both these men shall be sent back, unharmed, to the American army—and I shall be not only the happiest of men, for the requital of my love, but will also be saved, what I feel would be a great crime!”
“If you know it to be a great crime, why commit it?” she asked.
“Ah, Margarita! you little understand man’s feelings. But come,” he added, suddenly, “time presses—I cannot wait. You reject me—they must die!”