"Yes," answered Henri.
"This prayer was my adieu to earth; the joy that you remarked on my face—the joy that fills me even now, is the same you would see in me if the angel of death were to come and say to me, 'Rise, Diana, and follow me.'"
"Diana! Diana! now I know your name; Diana, cherished name!" murmured the young man.
"Oh, silence!" cried she, "forget this name which escaped me; no living person has the right to pierce my heart by pronouncing it."
"Oh! madame, do not tell me you are going to die."
"I do not say that," replied she in her grave voice; "I say that I am about to quit this world of tears—of hatreds—of bad passions—of vile interests and desires. I say that I have nothing left to do among the creatures whom God created my fellow mortals; I have no more tears, no more blood in my heart; no more thoughts—they are dead. I am a worthless offering, for in renouncing the world I sacrifice nothing, neither desires nor hopes; but such as I am I offer myself to my God, and he will accept me—he who has made me suffer so much, and yet kept me from sinking under it."
Remy, who had heard this, rose slowly, and said, "You abandon me?"
"For God," said Diana, raising her thin white hand to heaven.
"It is true," said Remy, sadly; and seizing her hand he pressed it to his breast.
"Oh! what am I by these two hearts?" said Henri.