t
passed around him, and even when the fever brought him delirious visions
he was often vaguely conscious of his presence. For himself, he did not
know whether he was to live or die; but one night he found out.

It was a beautiful night which came after a long day in which those
about his bed had looked at him with pitying eyes, and at last a priest
had come and absolved him of his sins, and left him with a solemn,
kindly blessing, with a soul clear of stain and ready for paradise.

He had fallen asleep afterward, and had dreamed not of heaven but of
earth, of a red rose in soft black hair, and of a passionate little face
whose large eyes glowed upon him.

And suddenly he was wide awake, and found his dream a living truth.

Jose was no longer in the room. The moonlight made everything clear, and
upon the floor beside him knelt Pepita, her eyes fixed upon his.

[Illustration: Dios! Dios! he murmured 163]

"Dios! Dios!" he murmured.

"Hush!" she said. "Do not speak. It is Pepita. Look at me. They said
that perhaps to-night you would die. I have prayed until I can pray no
more, and when I came to Jose the tears were falling from his eyes, and
he said perhaps you would not see the day. Then I showed him the little
knife hidden in my breast, and told him if he did not let me come to you
alone I would not live. I said I could force you to remain on earth.
I love you--I love you. It has all happened, that which you said would
happen; and when the _devisa_ fell at my feet I hid it in my breast with
the other which was there before. And because I love you so, you cannot
die. I will do anything you say I must do. I am Pepita, and I give
myself to you. I would give my blood and my life and my soul for you.
Every night I have waited by the wall in the hope that you would come.
I have watched you when you did not see me. If you had not come I should
have killed myself; if you die, I will drive the knife to its hilt in my
heart. I can love more than those women who love so easily and so often.
I knew nothing about it when I was so proud and mocked you. I know now.
Mother of God! it is like a thousand deaths when one cannot see the face
one wants. What hunger night and day!--one is driven mad by it!"

She bent more closely over him, crushing his un wounded hand against her
heart--searching his soul with her look.

"They said there was a girl in Lisbon whom you loved," she said. "I knew
it was a lie."

"Yes," he whispered, "