He was so changed, with his hair and beard all burned away, and that awful pallor of death upon his face, that Fair would never have known him but for the smile that parted his lips as he saw her.
For a moment she shrank and cowered, but Bayard Lorraine urged her gently forward, whispering:
“Forget and forgive.”
She went forward and laid a nervous little hand on the cold, pale one that lay outside the pillow.
“You—were—were—very brave, saving Mr. Osborne’s life as you did. It was a noble deed,” she faltered.
The prince smiled, and answered weakly:
“Thank you. It was so kind in you to come. I should not have presumed to ask it. I did not deserve it,” sighing.
“Oh, yes, you did, because—you were so brave. I am very sorry for you. I will stay by you until——” She paused, and he finished the sentence:
“Until I die! I do not think it will be long.”
Perhaps that promise held him back from death, for Prince Gonzaga lingered on several days, and Fair watched by him with patient forgiveness of the past, for, as she had said, he had been so brave that his bravery condoned many faults.