Tears sprang to Louise's eyes, and, approaching, she dropped on her knees at his side, and laid her hand on his arm, "Do you remember a promise I gave you long ago?" she asked softly. "If I have seemed forgetful, let me renew it now."
He still retained his attitude of dejection, and seemed regardless of her pleading tones.
"You will not hear me," she said at length, in a voice broken with grief, "when I kneel at your feet and ask your pardon."
"You kneel to me!" said he, suddenly grasping her arm and striving to raise her from the humble position. "Rise, I entreat, if you would not drive me mad!"
She stood before him, with tears falling fast from her beautiful eyes. "Who is the cruel one now?" she asked. "Who throws me aside and refuses forgiveness when it is repentantly implored?"
"What signifies the pardon of a wretch like me?" said he, in a tone of agony. "What is he? what can he be to you?"
Turning her head aside, she said in a soft, trembling voice, "He is what he has ever been, and still may be,—my world of love and happiness!" Her cheeks flushed, as, lifting her eyes, she encountered his earnest gaze. She sought to move away, but he was by her side. "Louise! Louise!" said he, in a tone of thrilling emotion, "Dare I hope that you love me still?"
There was no word; but she put her arm round his neck and sank weeping on his bosom. He pressed her again and again to his heart. "Ah, indeed!" said he, at length, "this is the luxury of woe. To know at last this love is mine, and be separated forever from its dear embraces by the cold walls of a prison. Stern justice can inflict no pang like this."
"Talk not of separation," said she, lifting her head, and revealing a face redolent with happiness. "No hand shall take me from you save the hand of death!"
He gazed with unspeakable tenderness on her glowing features, and said sorrowfully, "My wickedness does not deserve this angel-comforter. Why did you withhold this blessed consolation when the world smiled brightly on me?"