“But—your life—oh, my dearest!—your life!”
“It will not be ended by the hangman,” he replied, with a strange vibration in his voice, “it will go on elsewhere. We have but to wait.”
Norton stamped his foot impatiently.
“Well, is your choice made?” he asked.
“Go, my beloved!” said Gabriel, tenderly, but with a firmness which steadied her failing powers. Then he gave her a long, lingering kiss, and she slowly took her arms from about his neck and staggered towards the Vicar, hiding her face on his shoulder.
Gabriel watched her in heart-broken silence, understanding for the first time what the bitterness of death meant. An awful stillness reigned in the churchyard. He turned towards Norton.
“Sir, I am ready,” he said, in a low, firm voice.
Norton watched him with mingled feelings. It was impossible not to admire his courage and dignity, yet never had he hated the man more.
“Fool! You would die in your youth?” he said, sneeringly.
Then into Gabriel’s eyes there suddenly came a light that was Divine.