n, as if possessed with a sudden
fury, started tearing open the front of the girls dress. She remained
insensible under his hands, and Heyst let out a groan which made
Davidson shudder inwardly the heavy plaint of a man who falls clubbed in
the dark.

They stood side by side, looking mournfully at the little black hole
made by Mr. Jones's bullet under the swelling breast of a dazzling and
as it were sacred whiteness. It rose and fell slightly--so slightly that
only the eyes of the lover could detect the faint stir of life. Heyst,
calm and utterly unlike himself in the face, moving about noiselessly,
prepared a wet cloth, and laid it on the insignificant wound,
round which there was hardly a trace of blood to mar the charm, the
fascination, of that mortal flesh.

Her eyelids fluttered. She looked drowsily about, serene, as if fatigued
only by the exertions of her tremendous victory, capturing the very
sting of death in the service of love. But her eyes became very
wide awake when they caught sight of Ricardo's dagger, the spoil of
vanquished death, which Davidson was still holding, unconsciously.

"Give it to me," she said. "It's mine."

Davidson put the symbol of her victory into her feeble hands extended to
him with the innocent gesture of a child reaching eagerly for a toy.

"For you," she gasped, turning her eyes to Heyst. "Kill nobody."

"No," said Heyst, taking the dagger and laying it gently on her breast,
while her hands fell powerless by her side.

The faint smile on her deep-cut lips waned, and her head sank deep into
the pillow, taking on the majestic pallor and immobility of marble.
But over the muscles, which seemed set in their transfigured beauty for
ever, passed a slight and awful tremor. With an amazing strength she
asked loudly:

"What's the matter with me?"

"You have been shot, dear Lena," Heyst said in a steady voice, while
Davidson, at the question, turned away and leaned his forehead against
the post of the foot of the bed.

"Shot? I did think, too, that something had struck me."

Over Samburan the thunder had ceased to growl at last, and the world of
material forms shuddered no more under the emerging stars. The spirit
of the girl which was passing away from under them clung to her triumph
convinced of the reality of her victory over death.

"No more," she muttered. "There will be no more! Oh, my beloved," she
cried weakly, "I've saved you! Why don't you take me into your arms and
c