"Yes, and she will not wake. You may go!"
"One more little song," begged Helka. "I may never play my lute again."
"Why, Lena could bring it," suggested Cora. "It is not much to carry; and your box, I will take that."
Helka ran her fingers over the strings.
"Sing," she said, and Cora sang.
"His voice is calling sweet and low!
'Babbette! Pierro!'
He rows across, he takes her hand,
And then they sail away!"
"Yes," interrupted Helka, "he will come, and he will take my hand. Let us go!"
"There! There!" screamed Bess. "That was Cora's voice!"
"And that was Lillian's lute! Did I not give it to her?" insisted the strange young man, Leland.
"Then our lost ones are together," said Jack. "I am going!"