THE FRONTIERSMAN 321 �Una. "Born again" ? �Monos. Yes, fairest and best-beloved Una, "born again." These were the words upon whose mystical meaning I had so long pondered, rejecting the explana- tions of the priesthood, until Death himself resolved for me the secret. �Una. Death ! �Monos. How strangely, sweet Una, you echo my words! I observe, too, a vacillation in your step a joyous inquietude in your eyes. You are confused and oppressed by the majestic novelty of the Life Eternal. Yes, it was of Death I spoke. And here how singularly sounds that word which of old was wont to bring terror to all hearts throwing a mildew upon all pleasures ! �Una. Ah, Death, the spectre which sate at all feasts ! How often, Monos, did we lose ourselves in speculations upon its nature! How mysteriously did it act as a check to human bliss saying unto it "thus far, and no farther"! That earnest mutual love, my own Monos, which burned within our bosoms how vainly did we flatter ourselves, feeling happy in its first up-springing, that our happiness would strengthen with its strength ! Alas ! as it grew, so grew in our hearts the dread of that evil hour which was hurrying to separate us forever! Thus, in time, it became painful to love. Hate would have been mercy then. �Monos. Speak not here of these griefs, dear Una mine, mine forever now ! �Una. But the memory of past sorrow is it not present joy? I have much to say yet of the things which have been. Above all, I burn to know the inci- ��� �
