But from her white palfrey, sitting still where she was, the maiden watched the paroxysms of his sorrow.

She was dry eyed now, and her face was like a mask cut in snow.
Then as suddenly recalling himself, Sholto leaped from the ground, snatched up his sword, and again passionately advanced upon the Lady Sybilla.
"You it was who betrayed him," he cried, pointing the blade at her breast; "answer if it were not so!" "It is true I betrayed him," she answered calmly.
"You whom he loved--God knows how unworthily--" "God knows," she said simply and calmly.
"You betrayed him to his death.

Why then should not I kill you ?" Again she smiled upon him that disarming, hopeless, dreadful smile.
"Because you cannot kill me.

Because it were too crowning a mercy to kill me.

Because, for three inches of that blade in my heart, I would bless you through the eternities.