(Lady Ackland and Andre enter the Glen.)
Lady A. I knew it could not be. They told us she was murdered, Maitland. (Starting back.) Ah—ah—God help thee, Maitland!
Mait. Listen, listen. She was speaking but now. There—again!
Lady A. And this is she! Can the wilderness blossom thus? And did God unfold such loveliness—for a waste so cruel?
Helen. (In a low murmur.) We are almost there. If we could but pass this glen. Oh God! will they stop here? Go on,—go on. Was not that a white tent I saw? Go on. They will not. 'Tis nothing,—do not weep.
Mait. Look at me, Helen.—Open these eyes. One more look—one more.
Andre. She hears your bidding.
Mait. Oh God! Do you see those eyes—those dim, bewildered eyes?—it is quenched—quenched. Let her lean on you.
Lady A. Gently—gently, she does not see us yet.
Helen. Oh Mother, I am ill and weary. Here's this dream again! Blue sky? and pine-tree boughs? Am I here indeed? Yes, I remember now,—we stood upon that cliff—I am dying. Is there no one here? Whose tears are these?