And brother officers shouted to me from the roofs of neighbouring houses, asking if we were all safe—all well; and I answered that I hoped, I trusted so; and prayed heaven again to let her know me once more before she died.
And God granted me my prayer. Towards morning she awoke to consciousness. Just as the grey dawn commenced to break, and that dreadful flood, which continued for forty-eight hours to pervade the devoted cantonment, began to show symptoms of being at its height, she opened her dark eyes and gazed at me.
‘Where am I?’ she said, faintly.
‘Here, dearest,’ I replied, all reserve vanished in the face of death,—‘here in my arms; in the arms of him who loves you better than his life.’
‘It is not hard to die so,’ she whispered; but as she spoke an expression of agony passed over her countenance.
‘Are you in great pain, Lionne?’
‘Yes,’ she replied with effort.
‘Where, dearest? tell me.’
‘Everywhere—all over. I was knocked down so often.’