and with cowardice, to yield up the secret disgrace of her mighty race.
He,—dead to all else—heard but the answer that gave her back to him; doubted not, questioned not, paused not for proof or for dread, but witb a great cry—the cry of a heart that was breaking with rapture—stretched out his lacerated arms, and drew her up to his embrace, and crushed her close against his bruised and aching breast.
"God forgive me that ever I believed even your own voice against you! God forgive me that I wronged you!"
His words rung clear and loud, and sweet as clariones ring in his unutterable joy. Then his head sank, his wounded limbs failed him, ecstacy vanquished his strength as never wretchedness had done; for the first time in all his years of manhood he bowed himself down and wept as women weep, with the agony of passion, with the abandonment of childhood.
| * | * | * | * | * | * | * | * |
Not until long after were other words uttered between them. The first that were spoken were hers, while the pulse of her heart beat on his, and the low flame of the lamp sunk out slowly.
"What use! what use that you know the truth!"
