And what a face it was; that of a more than murderer about to meet his reward! Would that I could paint to show it, for no words can tell the fearfulness of those red and sunken eyes, those grinning teeth and quivering lips.

I think that when the enemy of mankind has cast his last die and won his last soul, he too will look thus as he passes into doom.
'At length, de Garcia!' I said.
'Why do you not kill me and make an end ?' he asked hoarsely.
'Where is the hurry, cousin?
For hard on twenty years I have sought you, shall we then part so soon?
Let us talk a while.

Before we part to meet no more, perhaps of your courtesy you will answer me a question, for I am curious.

Why have you wrought these evils on me and mine?
Surely you must have some reason for what seems to be an empty and foolish wickedness.' I spoke to him thus calmly and coldly, feeling no passion, feeling nothing.

For in that strange hour I was no longer Thomas Wingfield, I was no longer human, I was a force, an instrument; I could think of my dead son without sorrow, he did not seem dead to me, for I partook of the nature that he had put on in this change of death.