The unhappy
woman then returned to her hut and began to call loudly for Basilio
and Crispin, stopping every few minutes to listen attentively. Her
voice came back in an echo, for the soft murmur of the water in the
neighboring river and the rustling of the bamboo leaves were the
only sounds that broke the stillness. She called again and again as
she climbed the low cliffs, or went down into a gully, or descended
to the river. Her eyes rolled about with a sinister expression, now
flashing up with brilliant gleams, now becoming obscured like the
sky on a stormy night; it might be said that the light of reason was
flickering and about to be extinguished.
Again returning to her hut, she sat down on the mat where she had
lain the night before. Raising her eyes, she saw a twisted remnant
from Basilio's camisa at the end of the bamboo post in the dinding,
or wall, that overlooked the precipice. She seized and examined it
in the sunlight. There were blood stains on it, but Sisa hardly saw
them, for she went outside and continued to raise and lower it before
her eyes to examine it in the burning sunlight.
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