The lethargy of that terrible illness following on acute delirium held the patient in its grasp, and he did not recognize the fond, anxious faces that bent over him, his ears were deaf to their words of love.
This condition continued for days, and they feared that the patient would sink into death without knowing the remorse and penitence they had crossed the sea to pour into his ears.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
TOO LATE!
Oh, those days and nights of sorrow and suspense! The tortured parents would never forget them.
The memory of their harshness was a lash to conscience that never ceased to sting.
In the weary nightly vigils, when they hung over the sufferer’s bedside, the mother prayed, unceasingly:
“Oh, God, give me back my boy, that I may atone!”
All her pride was brought low. If she could have known where to find the mysterious girl her son loved, she would have dragged her by force, if necessary, to her son’s bedside, hoping that the sight of her beauty would lure him back to life.
Oh, the strength of a mother’s love! What will it not endure and yield and suffer for the sake of the beloved one!