"She is dead, and I will die with her!"
Such was the only thought that filled Frank's distracted brain. In despair he threw himself upon the bed, murmuring, "Esther, my beloved!"
And even in that awful moment when his lips touched that still warm cheek the supreme contact was one of ineffable sweetness. Knotting his arms about the object of his love, who had not been granted the opportunity to love him, the poor boy bade farewell to life.
But simultaneously a voice, scarcely more than a sigh, murmured in his ear, "Save me!"
In an instant he was upon his feet. With a vigor of which he would not have believed himself capable a moment before, he raised the girl in his arms and sprang with her through the belt of igneous smoke.
CHAPTER XVII.
HORACE AND SHAKESPEARE.
The sun was already high above the horizon when at last Lebeau opened his eyes. The brilliant light of dawn, penetrating the chamber where he lay, wounded his sight, and his heavy eyelids drooped. After a moment he raised them painfully and perceived the kindly face of the surgeon of the poor bending above him.
"Do you recognize me?" he asked.