But Regina had perceived the malignant smile through her tears, and it struck her with an indescribable horror. She seemed to detect a dark secret.
"Come!" he repeated hastily. "I will give Messenius' wife, who is a Catholic, the charge of burying our friend."
Regina's dark eyes looked on the monk with fear and aversion.
"At seven o'clock yesterday evening," she said, "Dorthe was in good health. Then she drank the beverage of strengthening herbs which you have prepared for her every evening. At eight o'clock she was taken ill ... ten hours afterwards she has ceased to live."
"The fatigue of the long journey ... a cold, an inflammation ... nothing more is wanted. Come!" said the monk uneasily.
But Regina did not move.
"Monk," she said in a voice trembling with disgust and horror, "you have poisoned her."
"My child, my daughter, what are you saying? Grief has clouded your reason; come, I forgive you."
"She was a burden to you ... I saw your impatience on our journey here. And now you wish me to place myself in your power without protection. Holy Virgin, save me! I will not go with you!"
The Jesuit's mobile features instantly changed their expression, and assumed that commanding air which had made Messenius yield.