She struggled, broke free, and scrambled to her feet, her brain in a turmoil, and almost instantly Don Carlos also was on his feet, laughing exultantly.
"Myra, darling, surely you can no longer persist in pretending you do not love me," he exclaimed breathlessly. "If you hated me, as you professed, you would have let Standish try to fire a second time. I have put you to the test and proved that you love me."
Myra, agitated, bewildered, torn by conflicting emotions, gazed at him wide-eyed.
"But--but aren't you wounded?" she stammered. "Have you only been pretending?"
"Only pretending, Myra, but I blame myself for not acting my part for a little longer," answered Don Carlos. "If only I had waited, pretending for a few minutes longer that I was dying, you would have confessed your love. But your kiss so fired my heart that I forgot my part."
He laughed again exultantly and made a movement as if to sweep Myra into his arms, but she recoiled from him hastily. Anger and resentment at having been fooled swiftly succeeded her bewilderment, and her blue eyes flashed her indignation.
"So you have only been making mock of me, playing a part as usual, to flatter your own vanity!" she exclaimed. "I am sorry now that Tony's aim was not truer, and that I prevented him from firing a second time."
"The result would have been just the same, Myra," Don Carlos responded. "The pistol was loaded with blank cartridges. I deliberately left it within the reach of Standish, to see if he would have the nerve to use it, and to see how you would behave if he fired at me. You must admit, Myra darling, that you showed more concern for me than for Standish, thereby proving that you love me best. Dear heart, I shall treasure the memory of the first kiss you gave voluntarily."
"I would kiss any ruffian who begged me to do so if I thought he was dying," said Myra. "You have no reason to flatter yourself on the success of your play-acting trickery."
"Myra, don't you think you have resisted me and the call of your heart long enough?" countered Don Carlos. "Must I take still stronger measures to induce you to surrender yourself voluntarily? What if I tell you that I propose to have Antony Standish branded with hot irons and scourged as a punishment for attempting to kill me, unless you give yourself to me?"