"But was she happy?" queried Radu, with tears in his eyes.
"Was she happy! Good God! was she happy!" cried Eric, clenching his fists towards the skies. "Yes, I believe she was happy! If I did not believe that I could not live. She said to me to kiss her eyes so that for ever she could keep the picture of what she had loved best in this world! At that moment she died! My warm touch of love was death! Canst grasp that frightful truth?... was death! My lips, my lover's lips closed her eyes for ever!... for ever ... over the vision of my face!
"Before they laid her in the ground I wrapped her in my cloak; that is why it is gone. I would not leave her thus thinly clad within the cold shadow of her grave; and upon the spot where she lies I planted my sword. There, where the eyes I followed so far are for ever closed, I left my sword."
"Oh," sobbed Radu, "and now I shall never see that face!"
"Yes, thou shalt," answered his friend. "Come with me and thou shalt see the fairest being God ever made!"
"Where?" asked the astonished peasant, "where?"
"Follow me and thou shalt know!"
"But my sheep,—they are tired; and see how tame are my dogs, exhausted by the length of the way."
"It is not far from here—there thou canst rest; thou art not in a hurry, and I would thou shouldst know the eyes of my dream."
Again Eric hid his face in his clasped hands, whilst a harsh dry sob rose to his throat.