“You are angelic. Oh, let us not think of other things. Let us banish from our minds the thought of that barrier which rises between us. While we are here let us forget every thing except that we love one another. To-morrow will come, and our joy will be at an end forever. But you, darling, will be saved! I will guard you to my life’s end, even though I can not come near you.”
Tears fell from Beatrice’s eyes. He felt them hot upon his hand. He sighed deeply.
“I am of the accursed brood!—the accursed!—the accursed! You dishonor your name by touching me.”
Brandon clang to her. He would not let her go. She wept there upon his breast, and still murmured the words, “Accursed! accursed!”
Their carriage rolled on, behind them came the other; on for mile after mile, round the bays and creeks of the sea, until at last they reached a village.
“This is our destination,” said Brandon.
“Where are we?” sighed Beatrice.
“It is Denton,” he replied.
The coach stopped before a little cottage. Asgeelo opened the door. Brandon pressed Beatrice to his heart.
“For the last time, darling,” he murmured.