Martin Conisby's Vengeance by Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Also you are very foul of blood!" said I.

"Yes," says she soft-voiced, and glancing from me to her stained finery and back again. "Yes. And is this so great a matter?"

"To-night you murdered a man!"

"I killed him--yes. Cestiforo--he was drunk. And was this so great a matter?"

"And you--a woman!" said I, marvelling.

"Aye, to my sorrow!" said she, gnashing white teeth, "Yet am I strong as a man and bolder than most."

"God preserve me from such!" quoth I fervently.

"You--you?" cried she. "What thing are you that seeming man must blench at a little blood? Are you yourself so innocent, you that know Tressady o' the Hook?"

"Howbeit I am no murderer, woman."

"Ah--bah!" cried she, with flick of scornful fingers. "Enough of words, Master Innocent. Bring me where I may eat and bed me till morning."

Thereupon (and mighty unwilling) I brought her into the cave and lighting two candles of my own contriving, I set before her such viands as I had, together with bread I had newly baked, and with no word of thanks this strange, fierce creature fell to eating with a voracity methought very disgusting.

Now the more I saw of her the more grew my disgust and the end of it was I determined to put the whole length of the island betwixt us and that at once. To this end I began collecting such articles as I should want, as my light hatchet, sword, pistols, etc. I was buckling on my belt when her voice arrested me, albeit she spoke me very sweetly and soft:

"You go now to your woman--your light of love--yes?"

"There is no woman but yourself," said I, frowning.

"Liar! Then what of this?" and she pointed slender finger; then I saw that tattered garment lying where I had dropped it and this woman spurning it with her foot. So I stooped forthwith, and snatching it from her desecrating touch, folded it across my arm, whereat she fell to sudden laughter very ill to bear.

"Ah--ah!" said she, softer than before and most hatefully a-smiling, "'tis for her sake your chin goeth bare and smooth--yes? She is over-nice in the matter of--"

"I tell you she is gone!" said I in fury.

"Gone--gone, is she? And you alone here, longing but for her return, through weeks and months and years waiting for her to come back to you; is not this the truth of it, yes?" Now I, knowing this for very truth, could but scowl, finding no word to say, whiles this creature nodded and flashed white teeth in her hateful smile. "You loved this woman," said she, "do love her; dead or living, rotting bones or another's delight, you do love her yet, poor, miserable fool!"