It was the afternoon, and the sun, arrayed in the pride and glory of summer, poured a stream of rays through the skylight, right on to the sufferer’s face. Thinking that the light might annoy her, Hildebrand was about to draw the curtain over the berth; but before he could accomplish his purpose, she caught at his hand, and clasped it in hers.
Her hand, which was so white and lovely to the eye, was cold as ice, and felt like the touch of death. Hildebrand was unmanned.
“My love! my Hildebrand, prithee do not weep!” said Inez, in faltering accents, and fixing her lustrous eyes on his. “I would bid thee farewell!”
Hildebrand, with a bursting heart, leaned over her pillow, and pressed his lips to hers.
“May God have mercy upon us!” he cried, with great devoutness, “and, for his sweet Son’s sake, take thee to his everlasting joy!”
As he spoke, Inez, by a great effort, raised her hand, and held up before her an ebony crucifix. Seeing that she could not hold it herself, Hildebrand flew to her succour; and, clasping her round the wrist, just below the crucifix, kept it up before her. Her eyes grew less lustrous as it was thus fixed in their view.
“I am the Resurrection and the Life!” she murmured, in broken words: “whosoever believeth on Me”—
She was yet speaking, when, all at once, her lips broke into a bright smile, and Hildebrand felt her arm dropping down. Seeing that she was nigh her last breath, he stooped to kiss her: she was dead!