CHAPTER VI.
When guilt had prospered with him, all the love She bore him faded, as the floweret fades Before the simoom's breath. But when the tide Of fortune turned, and on its bosom bore His barque, dismantled by misfortune's blast, To ruin's coast, youth's warm affections came Once more with freshened vigour, and the heart That in a happier hour deigned not to save, Now felt it leaned on him, and him alone, And broke when that support was gone."
McLeod.
Three weeks after the events just recorded, in a cell built within the massive wall of the Rondeel, sat the terrible pirate chief whose name had so long spread terror throughout the world. It was nearly midnight. He stood by a grated window, that looked towards the moonlit bay, in deep meditation, occasionally starting, with clanking chains, as some burning thought set his brain on fire. All at once he fancied he heard a noise, as if some one was carefully turning the lock in the door of his cell, wherein was set a grated wicket, through which the jailer could communicate with him. He started and fixed his eyes in the direction whence it proceeded, when he saw it slowly open and a muffled figure enter. The intruder then closed it carefully and threw off the mantle. It was Kate Bellamont. She was pale, and her noble features wore a sad and anxious look.
"Thou hast sent for me, Lester? so thy jailer told me."
"I have," he said, in the subdued tones of a chastened spirit. "I would kneel at thy feet and ask forgiveness for all the wrongs I have done thee!"
"Thou hast wronged thyself, not me, Lester! I forgive thee."
"Thanks—a thousand thanks, kind lady!" he said, overpowered by his feelings. "I dared not hope you would come to see me. Oh, lady, let me not presume too much. To-morrow morning I am to be led forth to receive my sentence. It will be death."
"Oh, speak not of it. I know it. Oh God, that I could stay the hand of justice!"
"Do you feel so much for me?"
"Feel I my heart bleeds for you," she cried, with eloquent pathos. "Oh, Lester, Lester, why have you brought this on yourself?"
"Will you forgive me?"
"May Heaven forgive as freely."
"Lady—Kate—dearest Kate! I am about to die. The approach of death fills my soul with wondrous thoughts, while penitence, like gentle dew, has strangely softened my heart. The thoughts of youth come over me like a last-night's pleasant dream, and I feel as I did when we were children together! Can you have forgotten our childhood?"
"Lester, no! Robert, Robert, you will drive me distracted."
"Nay, but did you not love me then?" he said, tenderly taking her hand and drawing her unresistingly to his heart.
"Oh, sustain me, my good angel!" she cried, burying her face in her hands; "my heart, my poor heart!"
"Kate, this world and I have parted, and we soon must part. I will therefore address you frankly. I love you even as I first loved you! You have for years been the spirit of my dreams, the sun of my waking thoughts. Tell me at this solemn hour—see, the dawn of the last morning I shall ever know on earth is streaking the east—speak, and let the thought of it bless my dying hour—do you love me still?"
"Oh, Robert, ask me not. I am betrothed—I—"
"Nay, I ask not for the confession of thy love for me; I look not upon you with human love; but with the feelings of a dying man, who longs for some cheering word to sweeten the draught of death. Tell me, sweet Kate, that you love me still!"
She could not resist the solemn earnestness of his appeal:
"Yes, yes!" she cried, bending her head upon his shoulder and bursting into tears.
He gazed on her fair cheek fondly, but his penitent lip sought not to profane it. His thoughts too plainly were subdued by contemplation of his approaching fate. He felt as he spoke. But a ray of grateful pleasure at her words illumined his haggard features, and, speaking softly to her, he said,
"I know not how to thank you for this, dearest lady!"
"Oh, Lester, must you die?" she cried, without heeding his words. "Your immortal spirit! Oh, I tremble for its fate!"
"I have thought much of it of late! It seems now, as I look back, as if the last five years of my life had been passed under a spell. I am penitent, it is true, but feel there is no hope for me!"
"There is, there is!"
"I know the boundless arms of your holy faith will reach even to the gates of perdition; but I am beyond their reach. Yet I die composedly, since you have told me you love me still!"
"Talk not so, Robert; I will pray with you!" she said, earnestly.
And he knelt beside her as, with impassioned fervour, she addressed to the Virgin a simple and eloquent prayer for the soul of him who was so soon to become a habitant of the world of spirits. Both remained silent a few moments after she had ceased. Their souls seemed to have blended in one by flowing upward together on the holy tide of prayer. Suddenly, prompted by the gentle feelings that filled his heart, he turned to her and said,
"Dearest Kate, one thing I would ask of you; 'tis bold, but there is no earthly feeling or human emotion united with it. Consent to unite yourself to me here—not by words of marriage—not as an earthly bride—but that our souls may be one hereafter!"
"Robert, tempt me not; the current of my young love has rushed back upon me in an irresistible flood; therefore, if you love me, tempt me not!"
"Nay, Kate, dearest, 'tis but a word, and the last request you can have the power to grant me. Let me take your hand; 'twill be a spiritual union only."
He gently took her passive hand in his as he spoke, and said in a voice of love, that vibrated along every chord of her heart,
"Will you be mine?"
"Yes, yes!" she replied, with great agitation.
He kissed her cheek as she answered, and at the same instant a deep voice said,
"I pronounce you man and wife! Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder!"
The maiden shrieked and would have fallen to the floor but for the support of her husband's arm, who, turning in the utmost surprise, beheld Father Nanfan standing without and looking upon them through the grated window of the cell.