'And this war once over, if God spares me, I shall come, at every risk, at every hazard, and take you away—on this I had already resolved, darling.'
'When that time comes, dearest Carl, I will live on your smiles by day, and rest my head on your bosom at night.'
There was a smile on the eyes and on the lips of the girl as she spoke, though her heart was torn by the misery of the coming separation. Suddenly she said:
'Kneel with me before this altar, ere some one interrupts us. Let us make a promise to be true to each other in life and in death——'
'Death, darling?'
'In sorrow and joy, peril and safety; sickness and health, in death and in life! Repeat after me, what I say.'
Clasped hand in hand, and kneeling face to face, they each promised to be faithful, loving and true to the other, under all circumstances, exactly as if they had been wedded, till death parted them. The words she dictated were strangely nervous and solemn—solemn even to being fantastic—chilling, yet somehow charming, and they were never forgotten by Charlie, who repeated them after her as one in a dream.
In the usually tender eyes and soft face of Ernestine there was, for a time, a sad yet stern expression of resolution and self-mastery, which Charlie failed to analyze, though the memory of it long haunted him.
'We have forged our spiritual chain, beloved Carl,' said she, 'and cannot break it now.'
'Nor shall it ever be broken!' he replied, caressing her tenderly.