d at last to
throw herself on the bear skin coverlet to rest; and gradually sleep
overcame all her anguish, all her terror.

She might have slept for about a half an hour, a restless,
phantom-haunted sleep at best, when she suddenly awoke.

It seemed to her as if she had heard a distant cry. Perhaps she had only
imagined she had heard it in her slumbers, and perhaps what she had
dreamt was so awful and what she fancied she had heard was so terrible,
that it had awakened her.

She began to listen attentively. After midnight every light sound seems
so loud.

She fancied in the great stillness that she could hear rapidly
approaching footsteps.

Again a cry! like the cry of a hunted beast, like the cry of a wounded
wolf!

She was not dreaming now, she could hear it plainly. She saw where she
was. The moonlight was streaming through the window, she could see to
the end of all three rooms.

Suddenly at the window overlooking the garden whence the moonbeams
streamed in, a black shape appeared which obscured the moonlight for an
instant.

This shape leaped through the window and, panting hard, rushed through
the two rooms into the third where the arms stood.

Henrietta saw it fly past her bed, she heard its panting sobs
and--recognized it.

It was Fatia Negra! this was Fatia Negra's house!

And this was not all.

Close upon the traces of Fatia Negra rushed another phantom with a drawn
sword in its hand, but its face was towards her and she recognized in
it--Szilard Vamhidy.

And yet she did not lose her consciousness at this double sight of
terror, though it would have been much better for her if she had.

Fatia Negra plunged into the armoury and plucked down a pistol from the
wall.

Szilard paused on the threshold.

"Halt!" cried Fatia Negra with a voice like a scream--"this is my house
and your tomb."

Szilard did not condescend to reply but drew a step nearer.

"Sir, but one word more," said Fatia Negra in a fainter voice and so
hoarsely as to be scarcely audible, "you have wounded me, you have run
me down; but your life is now in my hands and I could kill you this
instant if I had a mind to. Let us bargain a bit: I won't kill you if
you will not pursue me any further. You return and say you could not
catch me. I swear to you that to-morrow I will send you twenty thousand
ducats."

With contemptuous coldness Szilard replied: "Surrender, I will not
bargain."

"You won't bargain, you crushed worm