I spoke into her ear, I kissed her brow, but she did not move nor answer.
The light grew quickly, and now I saw all.

Otomie was dead, and by her own act.
This was the manner of her death.

She had drunk of a poison of which the Indians have the secret, a poison that works slowly and without pain, leaving the mind unclouded to the end.

It was while her life was fading from her that she had spoken to me thus sadly and bitterly.

I sat upon the bed and gazed at her.