It is scarcely to be told whether she was conscious of his presence or not, for the hand of death was strong upon her; but it is certain that, as he printed upon her hands the burning kisses of love in agony, and quenched them with his tears, it is certain that a smile came over her countenance before that last awful shudder with which the soul parted from the body for ever.
After it was all over he gazed at her for a single instant without speaking. Every one present saw that he acted as if of right, and let him do what he would; and unpinning the veil from her long beautiful hair, he took and steeped it in the blood that was still, notwithstanding all that had been done to stanch it, welling from a deep wound in her breast, till every part of the fabric was wet with gore. He then took the veil, placed it in his brown, scarred bosom--upon his heart;--and raising his eyes and one hand to Heaven, murmured some words that were not distinctly heard. He had not uttered one audible sentence since he came up, but he now turned, and with a tone of intreaty addressed Claude de l'Estang.
"The spirit will bless you, Sir," he said, "for giving her comfort in the hour of death! May I bear her to your house till eleven o'clock to-night, when I may remove her to her own abode?"
"I must not refuse you, my poor young man," replied the clergyman. "But I fear that my house will be no safe resting-place, even for the dead, just now."
Herval grasped his arm, and said, in a low but emphatic tone, "It is safe, Sir, against all the troops in Poitou. How long it may be so, I cannot tell; but as long as this arm can wield a sword, it shall not want defence. My Lord Count," he added, pointing to the dead body, "did I not hear that you meet her murderer to-morrow at noon?"
"I know not the hour or place he may appoint," replied the Count in a low deep voice; "but we do meet! and there are things that call aloud for vengeance, Herval, which even I cannot forgive."
The man laughed aloud, but that laugh was no voice of merriment. It was dreary, boding, horrible, and in good accordance with the circumstances and the scene. He replied nothing to the words of the Count, however, turning to the pastor and saying, "Now, Sir, now! If you will give shelter to the dead for but an hour or two, you shall win deep gratitude of the living."
"Willingly," replied the pastor. "But then," he added, turning to one of the other two women who were present, "Who shall protect you home, dear lady?"
"That will I do, at the risk of my life," said the Count; and the other woman, whom the pastor had not addressed, replied, "It will be better so. We have been too long absent already."
Armand Herval had not noticed the brief words that were spoken, for he was gazing with an intense and eager look upon the fair countenance of the dead, with bitter anguish written in every line of his face. The pastor touched his arm gently, saying, "Now, my son, let me and you carry the body. We can pass through the wood unseen."