gazed sightlessly upwards. Then came her voice, in the mysterious rhapsody of prayer:
“Lord! Lord! Forgive!
“God of love, forgive! He knows not what he does.
“Lord! Lord Jesus! Make an end. Make an end, Lord of the world, Christ of the cross, make an end. Have mercy on him, Father. Have pity on him!
“Oh, take his life from him now, now, that his soul may not die.”
Her voice had gathered strength till it rang out metallic and terrible.
“Almighty God, take his life from him, and save his soul.”
And in the silence after that cry her hands seemed to flicker in the air like flames of death.
“The Omnipotent,” came the voice of Ramón, speaking quietly, as if to her, “is with me, and I serve Omnipotence!”
She remained with her white clasped hands upraised, her white arms and her white