And if they extorted from her this ambiguous promise to stay till the end, and he lived, what then? Would they hold her to this promise?
She knew in her heart that he would do it; that he would hold her forever against her beloved. So she dare not promise.
A nervous tremor shook her form, and she faltered:
“I will stay till to-morrow.”
His eyes searched hers with wistful reproach.
“But, dear one, I may not die to-morrow. The physician says I may go out like the flame of a candle to-night, or I may linger on for days. Can you deny me the comfort of your presence till the last hour? Can you be so cruel, when I have loved you so?”
His strained voice broke in a gasp, and he lay looking at her pitifully, love and sorrow in his anguished eyes.
It pierced her heart with pity, but she dared not yield, for fear of the uncertain future.
Yet she had a tender heart, and it ached with sympathy, though she had to steel herself against his prayer.
“Cruel, cruel!” he sighed reproachfully, and she shrank as from a blow.