ad determined to cast her into the river in accordance
with an ancient custom. Orion's fate was not to be decided till the
following day; but it would hardly be to his advantage in the eyes of
his Jacobite judges, that his betrothed was this Syrian Melchite.
At this Katharina was forced to support herself against her mother's
arm-chair to save herself from sinking on her knees; with tingling
cheeks she questioned the leech till he lost all patience and turned
away much annoyed at such excessive feminine curiosity.
Yes! "The other" was his betrothed before all the world; but only to
die! The blood rushed through her veins in a hot tide at the thought;
she could have laughed aloud and fallen on the neck of every one she
met. What she felt was hideous; malignant spite possessed her; but it
gave her rapture--delicious rapture--a flower of hell, but with splendid
petals and intoxicating perfume. But its splendor dazzled her and its
fragrance presently sickened her. Sheer horror of herself came over
her, and yet she could have shouted with joy each time that the thought
flashed through her brain: "The other must die!"
Her mother feared that her daughter, too, was about to fall ill,
her eyes glowed so strangely and she was so restless and nervously
excitable.
Since Heliodora had taken the overwhelming news of Orion's betrothal
to Paula with astonishing though sorrowful calmness, to the hot-blooded
girl she was nothing, nobody, utterly unworthy of her notice.
To spite her she had committed a crime as like murder as one snake is
like another, and imperilled her own mother's life! It was enough to
drive her to despair, to make her scourge herself with rods!
When Susannah kissed her at parting for the night she complained of a
slight sore throat and of her lips, which she fancied must be swollen.
Katharina detained her, questioned her with a trembling voice, put the
lamp close to her, and held her breath while she examined her face, her
neck, and her arms for the dreadful spots. But none were to be seen and
her mother laughed at her terrors, called her a dutiful, anxious child,
and warned her not to be too full of fears, as they were supposed to
invite the disease.
All night the girl could not sleep. Her malicious triumph was past;
nothing but painful thoughts and grewsome images haunted her while
awake, and pursued her more persistently when she dozed. By dawn of day
her alarm for her mother was so great that she sp
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