The storm was rapidly increasing, and the wind and drifting snow confused her; but she ran on now, and with a despairing cry flung her arms round the figure, crying—
“Rue—sister! Where are you going? Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop!”
“Sage!” she cried, hoarsely, and she struggled to free herself; but Sage clung to her tightly, and she stumbled, slipping on the hard ground beneath the snow, and sinking to her knees.
Sage knelt beside her upon the snow, and, clasping her waist, she sobbed—
“Yes, yes, upon your knees, Rue—sister, pray, pray with me—for strength. God hear our cry, and save my sister from this sin!”
For a few moments, as she heard the passionate cry, Rue knelt there trembling, but she began to struggle again.
“Don’t stop me. It is too late now. I cannot help it, Sage; I must go.”
“You shall not go. I know all. He has tempted you to do this wrong, and you are mad; but think—for God’s sake, think. It will break John’s heart.”
“Oh, hush, hush!” Rue cried, with a shiver. “Hush, hush! I must go now!”
“You shall not; I will never leave you. Rue, dear, there are two little children lying there in their bed, silently calling you to come to them and avoid this sin. Sister—mother—wife, will you leave them for that cruel, reckless man?”