[CHAPTER IV.]
Bonnibel ran forward and threw herself on her lover's breast in a passion of tears.
"You know all then, my darling?" holding her fast against his wildly-throbbing heart.
She could not speak for the sobs that came heaving from her aching little heart.
Bonnibel had never wept so wildly in all her life. It seemed to her that she would die of her grief as she lay panting and weeping in Leslie's tender arms.
"Do not weep so, my little love," he whispered. "We were too sanguine of success. But try to bear it bravely, my Bonnibel. We both are young. We can bear to wait a few years until my success is assured, and then I will claim you for my own in spite of all the world!"
Bonnibel did not answer. She continued to sob heart-brokenly, and Leslie could feel her little heart beating wildly against his breast as if it would burst with the strain of her grief.
So absorbed was he in trying to comfort the agitated girl that he did not hear the sound of an approaching footstep.
The next moment Wild Madge, the sibyl, stood before them, and the echo of her weird and mocking laugh blent strangely with the hollow beat of the Atlantic waves.