And it seemed to Eric that at that moment his life and hers were flowing quietly together in one great tide towards the shores of Eternity....
But when old Zorka came at the break of day to see how her dear ones fared, she stood strangling a cry that rose in the air; then, throwing herself upon the ground, she hid her grey head in the dust.
There sat Eric with wandering gaze, his eyes wide open, full of frantic misery, looking down upon a corpse he held pressed closely to his beating heart. And through the gold of his shining locks, soft silver threads were scattered like finely spun moonbeams entwined with the rays of the sun.
Zorka lifted her haggard face and stared in awe at the ghost-like pallor of the girl. A wonderful light rested on her waxen features as she lay full of peace and rest, white and motionless in the arms of her lover.
Her eyes were closed as one who has shut her tired lids over a joy too great for words, the vastness of which had burst asunder her human heart.
XXV
And thy first night of death
Belongs to our first sorrow....
What knowledge now is thine?
A deeper one than ours.
Bard of the Dâmbovitza.