"Yes, yes!" she cried, bending her head upon his shoulder and bursting into tears.
He gazed on her fair cheek fondly, but his penitent lip sought not to profane it. His thoughts too plainly were subdued by contemplation of his approaching fate. He felt as he spoke. But a ray of grateful pleasure at her words illumined his haggard features, and, speaking softly to her, he said,
"I know not how to thank you for this, dearest lady!"
"Oh, Lester, must you die?" she cried, without heeding his words. "Your immortal spirit! Oh, I tremble for its fate!"
"I have thought much of it of late! It seems now, as I look back, as if the last five years of my life had been passed under a spell. I am penitent, it is true, but feel there is no hope for me!"
"There is, there is!"
"I know the boundless arms of your holy faith will reach even to the gates of perdition; but I am beyond their reach. Yet I die composedly, since you have told me you love me still!"
"Talk not so, Robert; I will pray with you!" she said, earnestly.
And he knelt beside her as, with impassioned fervour, she addressed to the Virgin a simple and eloquent prayer for the soul of him who was so soon to become a habitant of the world of spirits. Both remained silent a few moments after she had ceased. Their souls seemed to have blended in one by flowing upward together on the holy tide of prayer. Suddenly, prompted by the gentle feelings that filled his heart, he turned to her and said,
"Dearest Kate, one thing I would ask of you; 'tis bold, but there is no earthly feeling or human emotion united with it. Consent to unite yourself to me here—not by words of marriage—not as an earthly bride—but that our souls may be one hereafter!"