"What have you said to him?" asked Mattie, almost fiercely.
"What I would have said to him had he been dying—as he will die!—oh! as he will die, I am sure of it."
"I pray God not," ejaculated Mattie.
"I asked him if he had forgiven me—if he would believe that when he gave me up I loved him with my whole heart, and looked for no happiness without him."
"You told him that!—you dared to tell him that at such a time!"
"I could not have told him at any other, and he was about to be sacrificed by his own will and these mad relations, who have persuaded him to this! He will die, I am sure of it."
"Don't say it again—I must hope, Harriet, and you drive me mad by this excitability. What have you done?"
"Strengthened his courage—been rewarded by the 'God bless you, Harriet!' which escaped him."
"Did he say no more?"
"Nothing but 'Too late!' In his heart he must feel that he will die, or he would not have said that. Oh! those awful words, which will ring in our ears and be our torment when this is over. Mattie, I must stop it!"