"I know, I know! You would have died for me when you thought me vile with the vice that I cherished, branded with the kisses of shame. And yet—is there no doubt with you now?"
"Doubt? Did ever I harbour it save at your own bidding?"
"Yet—what have you but my word, the word which that Iscariot told you was only a dulcet lie, soft and false on every ear?"
She felt the tremor of his passion run through all his limbs.
"Were I free but for one hour"
"Be at peace. I have given him to vengeance. Have you not heard how traitors end even in these days, even in European capitals? So will be his end, for his sin against us."
Her voice had in it that strong immutable merciless vengeance that came to her with her eastern blood; that smote rarely, but when it smote, never wavered and never failed. Then once more she shrank from his hand as though unworthy of its touch.
"Vengeance!" she moaned, "what use is it to us? You are lost through me—lost for ever! You pity, honour, love me still! I could better bear your curse!"
