weat stood in large drops upon his forehead. With my own
handkerchief I wiped his lips and brow tenderly--my nerves were strung
up to an almost brittle tension--I smiled as a woman smiles when on the
verge of hysterical weeping.

"You know the avenue," I said, "the dear old avenue, where the
nightingales sing? I saw you there, Guido--with HER!--on the very night
of my return from death--SHE was in your arms--you kissed her--you
spoke of me--you toyed with the necklace on her white breast!"

He writhed under my gaze with a strong convulsive movement.

"Tell me--quick!" he gasped. "Does--SHE--know you?"

"Not yet!" I answered, slowly. "But soon she will--when I have married
her!"

A look of bitter anguish filled his straining eyes. "Oh, God, God!" he
exclaimed with a groan like that of a wild beast in pain. "This is
horrible, too horrible! Spare me--spare--" A rush of blood choked his
utterance. His breathing grew fainter and fainter; the livid hue of
approaching dissolution spread itself gradually over his countenance.
Staring wildly at me, he groped with his hands as though he searched
for some lost thing. I took one of those feebly wandering hands within
my own, and held it closely clasped.

"You know the rest," I said gently; "you understand my vengeance! But
it is all over, Guido--all over, now! She has played us both false. May
God forgive you as I do!"

He smiled--a soft look brightened his fast-glazing eyes--the old boyish
look that had won my love in former days.

"All over!" he repeated in a sort of plaintive babble. "All over now!
God--Fabio--forgive!--" A terrible convulsion wrenched and contorted
his limbs and features, his throat rattled, and stretching himself out
with a long shivering sigh--he died! The first beams of the rising sun,
piercing through the dark, moss-covered branches of the pine-trees,
fell on his clustering hair, and lent a mocking brilliancy to his
wide-open sightless eyes: there was a smile on the closed lips! A
burning, suffocating sensation rose in my throat, as of rebellious
tears trying to force a passage. I still held the hand of my friend and
enemy--it had grown cold in my clasp. Upon it sparkled my family
diamond--the ring SHE had given him. I drew the jewel off: then I
kissed that poor passive hand as I laid it gently down--kissed it
tenderly, reverently. Hearing footsteps approaching, I rose from my
kneeling posture and stood erect with folded arms, looking tearlessly
d