Читать «Лучшие романы Томаса Майна Рида / The Best of Thomas Mayne Reid» онлайн - страница 720
Н. А. Самуэльян
It is not necessary to explain why she was there. The fire of jealousy was still burning in her breast – more furiously, more bitterly than ever.
In another instant she had placed herself in a position that commanded a view of the interior of the kiosk.
What she saw there was not calculated to extinguish the fearful fire that consumed her. On the contrary, like the collision of the falling timbers, it had the effect of stirring it to increased strength and fierceness.
Kate Vaughan had raised herself from her reclining position, and was sitting upright on the bamboo settee. Herbert was by her side, also seated. Their bodies were in contact – the arm of the young man softly encircling the waist of his cousin. It would have been evident to the most uninterested observer that their hearts were equally
It needed no reasoning on the part of Judith Jessuron to arrive at this conclusion.
The tableau was typical. It was a picture that required no explanation, nor did she who looked upon it ask for any.
She did not even stay to notice the brown-skinned damsel, who seemed to be guarding the entrance of the kiosk; but, springing past her, she stood in a defiant attitude in the presence of the lovers.
“Herbert Vaughan!” cried she, in a tone of bitter abandonment; “traitor! perjured villain! you have been false to me – ”
“It is not true, Judith Jessuron!” cried the young man, interrupting her, and, as soon as he had recovered from his surprise, springing to his feet. “It is not true. I – I never intended – ”
“Ha!” screamed the Jewess, her rage apparently becoming more fierce at the attempted explanation; “never intended what?”
“Never intended to marry you. I never gave you promise – ”
“False!” cried Judith, once more interrupting him. “No matter now – it is all past; and since you never intended to marry me, she at least will never be your wife!”
The action that followed rendered the menace of the mad woman too easily intelligible.
As she gave utterance to it she passed her hand under the mantle in which her figure was enveloped; and, as she drew it forth again, a shining object appeared between her fingers.
It was a pistol, with silver sheen and ivory handle – small, but large enough to take life at such close quarters.
It was presented as soon as drawn, but not at Herbert Vaughan. It was towards his companion that its muzzle was pointed!
Scarce a second passed before the report was heard; and, for a time, the kiosk was filled with smoke.
When this cleared away, and the shining light once more penetrated the apartment, a woman was seen extended on the floor, her form quivering in the last throes of life. In another instant it was motionless – a corpse!
The shot had proved fatal; but the victim was not Kate Vaughan, but Judith Jessuron!
The transposition was due to the Foolah maid. Seeing the life of her mistress in such imminent peril, she had sprung up from her seat by the door; and, bounding forward with the supple quickness of a cheetah, had seized the wrist of the intended murderess, with the intention of averting her aim, and, in doing so, had directed it upon herself.
