A spasm of pain swept across her face; he felt a shudder shake the slender form, and a beseeching look sought his face.
"I understand, my darling," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers.
She sighed. A happy light shone in the fast glazing eyes.
"Elinor!" he murmured. "One more word——"
But God had taken her.
CHAPTER XXII.
FAWKES BEFORE THE KING.
For a moment a great stillness pervaded the House of Lords. The King had half arisen from the throne, his hands tightly grasping the gilded lions on either side, and his eyes fixed upon the dead form of Elinor, lying at Effingston's feet. All followed the monarch's glance, the ministers and peers leaning forward to better see the stricken girl growing rigid in the clasp of death. So profound was the silence in the great hall, that the footsteps of those without were heard with startling distinctness in every part of the room. Before all the peers, leaned Lord Monteagle, his gaze riveted upon the face of his son. As for Effingston he heeded nothing; like an image of stone he stood, his limbs powerless and his blood turned to ice; the face of the dead was not whiter than his, yet, upon her face was the smile of peace, in his, the shadow of conscious, mortal agony.