Cœlia passed on, saying in a low voice, words of which Hermione failed to catch the meaning, but which were—“her name shall perish.”
Hyacintha lay upon the cushions of her couch, with closed eyes; over her features peace brooded.
The conflict and the struggle were over, and she was only awaiting the summons.
Suddenly, with one of the flashes of consciousness, which are like the leaping up of the flame before it dies out she opened her eyes and said:—
“I see the golden stairs which lead upward to the stars: Claudius, good Claudius—Claudius!”
The brave soldier drew a step nearer, and in low husky tones, said:—
“I am here, Hyacintha, I am here!”
A bright smile passed over her face as she said:—
“I have found the true Light, Claudius, the Dayspring from on high. I am going where the Light shall never be put out, and you will come, good Claudius—promise, vow!”
“I will come, God helping me,” he said—“beloved, I will come.”