"Thank God!" exclaimed Perozzi, "you are restored to me. Holy Virgin! can it be—so near death, and yet living and unhurt, I now hold you in my arms! O, blessed moment, when love guided me hither!"
"I owe you my life, signor," said Mildred, freeing herself from his embrace, "but it is a thankless boon; methinks death would have been sweeter! Leave me—I am better—I am well—leave me, signor!"
"Sweet angel! leave thee—leave thee thus exposed to new dangers! No—lean on me, my beloved—let me guide your trembling steps!" and he passed his arm around her.
"Away!" cried Mildred, springing from him. "Away! touch me not! Monster—fiend! I hate you! Begone from my sight forever, or, in mercy, kill me!"
Perozzi became livid with rage, and his eye-balls gleamed like fire in the deepening shadows, as they rested on Mildred, never more beautiful than as she now stood before him in all the majesty of outraged purity. But masking the hell in his heart with a well-feigned air of desperation, he fell on his knees before her.
"Would that the assassin's knife had reached my heart!" he exclaimed. "Better for me to die than endure your scorn. Yes, die! By heavens! why not end this miserable existence—here—yes, here, at your feet, cruel Mildred! It shall be done!" and drawing a pistol from his breast, he placed the muzzle to his temple.
"Hold—hold—for God's sake, miserable man, hold!" shrieked Mildred, springing forward.
It was too late—the pistol exploded.
"Ha—ha—ha!" shouted Perozzi, wiping his blackened brows, "that was well done!" And raising the now senseless girl in his arms he bore her to the house.
When, after a long and death-like swoon, Mildred opened her eyes they rested upon the anxious countenances of her mother and Mr. Donaldson bending over her couch.