"Aye, for eternity."
"And would you be my wife?"
"Your wife?" said the woman, her face changing. "It would be joy beyond all, but I could not."
"Why not?"
"I—you know I am promised to another," she went on desperately, "and but that I might see you I repeated the promise. Otherwise my uncle would never have permitted me this blessed privilege. I told him that I would marry anybody if he would only let me see you—alone—for a moment, even. What difference, so long as I could not be yours? I came to tell you that I loved you, and because of that to beg you to live, to give up that Eagle. What is it, a mere casting of metal, valueless. Don't look at me with that hard, set face. Let me kiss the line of your lips into softness again. I cannot be your wife, but at least you will live. I will know that somewhere you think of me."
"And would death make a difference? High in the highest heaven, should I be so fortunate as to achieve it, I would think of you; and, if I were to be sent to the lowest hell, I could forget it all in thinking of you."
"Yes, yes, I know how you love, because——"
"Because why?"
"I won't hesitate now. It may be unmaidenly, but I know, because I, too——"
"Laure!" cried the man, sweeping her to him again.