She held out her hand to him, which the weeping man pressed to his lips, and the deep silence which followed, was only broken by the sobs of those present.
'I have now but one wish in this world,' resumed Christine. 'Alas, but one, the fulfilment of which would soften the pangs of death; but I dare not hope.'
'Thy son is mine!' cried Arwed. 'By God and my own honor, I will adopt him and he shall bear the name and arms of Gyllenstierna.'
'I know,' answered Christine, 'that you will do whatever is great and good, and I have ceased to be anxious about the fate of my child since I confided it to you. But my poor old father--' and here her voice faltered,--'that I may not once more kneel before him and implore his pardon, that, that alone embitters my death.'
'Poor woman!' cried Arwed, who witnessed the extent of her sorrow with the perfect conviction that no consolation could be offered.
'Hope, sinner!' cried Swedenborg with emotion, laying his hand upon Christine's head. 'True repentance may do much; a weeping, penitent child, it presses strongly against the gates of heaven; and behold! the ruby gates fly open, and the eternal mercy, sitting upon a throne woven of rays of light, takes the weeping child softly to her bosom and dries her tears with maternal love!'
He stepped apart, folded his hands, and silently and fervently raised his eyes on high. Christine also folded her hands and moved her lips in a murmured prayer.
'Thou art heard!' suddenly exclaimed Swedenborg; and at the same instant Christine sprang up, and with outspread arms joyfully cried, 'my father!'
A white ray floated through the room, and the strings of the piano reverberated like the dying harmony of an Eolian harp.
'He has pardoned me, he has preceded me, he expects me there!' cried Christine in ecstasy, and immediately sank back upon her pillow.