It was over in a minute. One frantic, piteous death-scream and the poor little white cat lay dead on the gravel path, and the terriers sniffed her little body disdainfully, as though congratulating each other on their brave deed.
"Oh, Julius, they have killed my kitten!" cried Leonora in real distress. They were already under the archway, and Batiscombe was urging her to descend, but she clung to him, and stared back into the moonlight at the dogs and her dead pet.
Julius himself was enraged at the thing--it was so wantonly cruel.
"Run on," said he, in a whisper; "I will settle them." He had reflected quickly that they had only barked for a moment, and that any one who heard them must have heard the cat also and would have taken no notice of the noise.
At that very moment Marcantonio turned on his pillow, and, half waking, swore to himself, as he had done every night of his life for weeks, that he would send the dogs away in the morning. But all was still, and he fell asleep again instantly.
Julius went back upon the path, and the terriers growled, still scenting their vanquished prey. But he moved quickly and softly, speaking gently to them in a low voice, and holding out his hand to them. He had a sort of influence over animals, and they let him come close, pricking their ears and sniffing about his legs. Suddenly, as they smelled at his boots, he caught them by their necks in an iron grip, one in each hand, and held them up at arm's length, struggling frantically, but utterly incapable of making a sound.
"You killed her cat, did you, you brutes?" he muttered, savagely. "I will kill you."
He broke their necks, one after the other, and threw their quivering bodies far out under the orange-trees.
Leonora had watched him from the archway. She shuddered.
"They will not bark any more," said Julius, as he came to her.
A window opened, up in the house, a hundred yards away. Batiscombe's quick ear caught the sound.
"Come, sweetheart," he whispered; "some one is stirring."
His arm was round her as he guided her down the first steps, tenderly and strongly. She stumbled a little.
"Oh, Julius, I am so frightened!" she said piteously.
He stopped and took her off the ground as though she had been a child, and bore her swiftly and surely through the dark way. She could see his fiery blue eyes in the gloom, and in the flashes of white light as they passed the windows and arches where the moon streamed in, and as she looked she could feel her own grow big and dark; and she was frightened and very happy. But she thought of that strange thing she had dreamed--this very flight of hers exactly as it was to happen, so that she hid her face against his coat and clung to him nervously.