"Adrea! what do you mean? I will not leave you! Have courage! Adrea! Soon we shall leave all dangers behind us!"
"Paul! do you not understand? I am dying!"
Dying! He looked at her face, calm and even smiling, but terribly blanched and white, and he saw the empty phial upon the table. The whole truth swept in upon him. He staggered and almost fell with her.
"It is best so," she whispered. "I only minded when—I thought that you might not be back in time. I am quite—content now!"
"A doctor!" he cried hoarsely. "I must fetch a doctor! Adrea——"
"Please don't!" she interrupted. "Long before he could come—I should be dead. It is so much better! Did you think, Paul, that I could have you—tied for life—to a poor, hunted woman—forced to live always in a foreign country? Oh! no, no! I have had this poison by me ever since—in case—anything happened. Paul, carry me—to the sofa! There is—no pain—but I am getting weaker—very weak. My eyes are a little dim, too—but I can see you—Paul!"
He obeyed her, and sank on his knees, with his arms still around her. It seemed to him that she had never been so lovely as in those last few minutes of her life. It was wonderful to see her resigned as she was.
There was a brief silence, broken only by a sharp, convulsed sob from the kneeling man. Adrea, who heard it, stretched out her hand, and passed it caressingly along the side of his face. He caught it and covered it with kisses.
"Paul, we have been happy together, have we not?"