Stooping down he took up a handful of the foaming water and threw a few drops on her head and a few on his own.
"That is the old Danish rite, Stella," he said. "Now repeat after me—
"'Come joy or woe, come pain or pleasure,
Come poverty or richest treasure,
I cling to thee, love, heart unto heart,
Till death us sever, we will not part.'"
Stella repeated the words after him with a faint smile on her lips, which died away under the glow of his earnest eyes.
Then, as the last words dropt hurriedly from her lips, he took her in his arms and kissed her.
"Now we are betrothed, Stella, you and I against all the world."
As he spoke a cloud sailed across the moon, and the shadows now at their feet suddenly changed from silver to dullish lead.
Stella shuddered in his arms, and clung to him with a little convulsive movement that thrilled him.
"Let us go," she said; "let us go. It seems almost as if there were spirits here! How dark it is!"
"Only for a moment, darling!" he said. "See?" and he took her face and turned it to the moonlight again. "One kiss, and we will go."