There was a quick step behind him, and the girl's voice said clearly:
"If you go, I go also."
He turned swiftly, cold with amazement, the blood emptied from his heart.
Rosalie stood a little distance from him, her face pale, her hands held hard to her side.
"I understand all. I could not go outside, I stayed there"—she pointed to the other room—"and I know why you would die. You would die to save others."
"Rosalie!" he protested in a hoarse voice, and could say nothing more.
"You think that I will stay, if you go! No, no, no—I will not. You taught me how to live, and I will follow you now."
He saw the strange determination of her look. It startled him; he knew not what to say. "Your father, Rosalie—"
"My father will be cared for. But who will care for you in the place where you are going? You will have no friends there. You shall not go alone. You will need me—in the dark."
"It is good that I go," he said. "It would be wicked, it would be dreadful, for you to go."