“They have taken an oath, Mary, to wipe out your shame in his blood,” added the priest.
She immediately rose up without aid, and approached them.
“This is not true, my dear brothers,” said she, “this cannot be true—deny it for your sister.”
“We cannot deny it, Mary,” said John, “for it is true, and must be done—our vengeance is ripe, hot, burning, and will wait no longer.”
“John,” said she, calmly, “recollect 'vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and I will repay it.'”
“I told them so,” said their father, “but I receive no attention at their hands.”
“Vengeance is ours,” said John, in a deeper and more determined voice than he had ever uttered, “vengeance is ours, and we shall repay it.” The others repeated his words as before.
“Obstinate and unhappy young men,” said the priest, “you know not, or you forget, that this is blasphemy.”
“This, my dear sir,” observed their sister, getting still more deadly,pale than before, “is not blasphemy, it is insanity—my three brothers are insane; that is it. Relieve me, John,” said she, recovering herself, “and say it is so.”
“If we were insane, Mary,” replied her brother, calmly, “our words would go for nothing.”