“Not coming back?” Surprise brought energy into Matilde’s voice.

“No.  I am not coming back.  Do not be astonished.  I understand what has happened, and I am going to a safer place.”

“What?  How?  I do not understand.”  Matilde spoke rapidly and unsteadily.  “You must stay here—­Gregorio is going to send for the chief of police—­there will be an inquiry, and you must answer questions—­we suspect one of the servants, who has a grudge against your uncle, and who has tried to murder us all in revenge—­”

“Yes,” said Veronica, calmly.  “It was well arranged, I am sure.  If I had not found the rat-poison under the chest of drawers in Elettra’s room, you might have thrown suspicion upon her, because her husband was murdered at Muro.  If I had not found my tea too sweet, I should not have taken out the second piece and given it to the cat.  The taste I had of it almost killed me—­you have explained the rest to me now.  But I knew all that I needed to know.”

Matilde put her feet to the ground and slowly rose to her feet while Veronica was speaking.  Then she laid her two hands upon the girl’s shoulders and stared into her face.

“Do you dare to accuse me of trying to poison you?” she asked in a low, fierce voice.

“Take your hands from me!” cried Veronica, thrusting her back.  “Call your husband.  I will accuse you both—­you and him.”

They were women of the same race and name, and both brave.  But the elder and stronger felt her nerves growing weak in her when she heard the other’s voice.  Perhaps courageous people recognize courage and conviction in others more easily than cowards can.  Matilde hesitated.

“Call him!” repeated Veronica, in a tone of command.  “I insist upon it.  He shall hear what I have to say.”

“I will call him, that he may see for himself that you are quite mad,” answered Matilde.  “That is,” she added, “if he is well enough to come here from his room.”  And she moved slowly towards the door.

“If I am alive, he is well enough to hear me speak,” said the young girl.

Matilde stopped, turned, and faced her a moment, as though about to speak angrily.  Then she went on.  It was best, on the whole, to call her husband, she thought, though her reasoning was confused and uncertain.  In her view of matters, the burden of the crime she had tried to commit all fell upon him, and she was willing that he should face Veronica, and realize what he had done.  At the same time she believed herself so safe as still to be able to throw the suspicion entirely upon Elettra, though Veronica would protect her.  Moreover, though she would not have admitted the fact, her strength was momentarily so broken that she felt it easier to obey the young girl than to visit her and fight out the interview alone.