She heard his heart’s beatings, then she whispered: “Don’t be anxious; all is well, for all is as He that loves us wills.”
“Oh, Miriamne, I loved you never as now; God bless you! bless you! bless you!”
She interrupted him again. “The crisis is coming, and I thought perhaps I might not survive, Cornelius, but if I do not—”
Her words were silenced by an impassioned kiss.
She continued, “I dreamed, last night, that I saw the shadow of a cross, but on it a woman’s form.”
“Oh, beloved, do not think of it!”
“I do. I must! I understand it all.”
Pity now silenced her.
“Oh, Miriamne!” he cried anon, as he saw her descending into the vale of agony, from which he could not hold her back. He dare say no more. He feared to voice his thoughts, lest his fears become ponderous and huge, once they found escape in the garb of words.