"You have come at last, my own!" she sighed. "I knew the Bells would call you—"
"Yes—dearest—and I'll never leave you again—they took me away a wounded prisoner of war—but I broke the bars and came when I heard you call—"
"Look," she whispered, pointing with the slender blue-veined finger, "there she is, in the doorway again with her baby in her arms, waving at sunset to her lover on the hill?—what does it matter, a cabin or a palace!"
The shining eyes grew dim, the figure drooped, and a wild piteous cry came from the lover's fevered lips:
"Lord God of Love and Pity—she's dying!—Help—Help—Help!"
His faithful servant, worn with watching day and night, heard the cry, rushed to his side and caught his fainting form, as the light of the world faded.
XII
TRUTH
They nursed him slowly back into life again, the loving heart of the older brother guiding the arm of his faithful slave.
He refused to live at first.