"Adrea? She knew nothing! How could she?"
"Do you know who Adrea was?"
She seemed surprised that anything else could, for a moment, occupy his mind after the story to which he had listened; but she struggled to answer him. "She was Count Hirsfeld's daughter! He never spoke to me of her mother! It was in Constantinople. I am afraid——"
He bowed his head. "I understand," he said simply. The colour had suddenly flooded into his cheeks, and there was a mist before his eyes. Even in that supreme moment, when her senses were failing and her eyes were growing dim, she saw and understood.
"I wanted to be kind to her always," she faltered. "We would have adopted her, but she would not stay here. She was unhappy, and I helped her to escape. I had my reasons!"
He had already guessed at them, and he held out his hand. He did not wish to hear any more. There was a moment's silence. She was looking at him with dim, wistful eyes.
"You—you are very like your father!" she said, painfully. "Will you kiss me?"
He stooped down and kissed the pale, trembling lips, and held her hands tightly. Her breath was coming fast, and she spoke with difficulty.
"Thank God they brought you here instead of the doctor! I can die—at peace now! But you—you are in danger! You must escape from here! You must not lose a minute! Oh, you do not know! you do not know! The Count is cruel—bitterly cruel! He will not come to me although I die. He will not forgive, although I have suffered agonies! He is my father but he will not forgive me. And you—you are in danger if he finds you! They have gone for him! Ah! I remember! Father Andrew went for him! He is afraid that I shall tell you the truth, and that the Church will not gain your property. Quick! you must go! Kiss me once more, Paul, and go! Go quickly! These monks are wolves, but they are cowards! Strike them down if they try to stop you! Don't hurt my father! Farewell! farewell!"
"I will stay with you till the end," Paul whispered.