There was now no turning away. My recent fears had been realized. I must tell him what was in my heart.
“Mary Tot says, zur,” I gasped, “that love leads t’ hell.”
He started from me.
“I would not have my sister,” I continued, “go t’ hell. For, zur,” said I, “she’d be wonderful lonesome there.”
“To hell?” he asked, hoarsely.
“Oh, ay!” I groaned. “T’ the flames o’ hell!”
“’Tis not true!” he burst out, with a radiant smile. “I know it! Love—my love for her—has led me nearer heaven than ever I hoped to be!”
I troubled no more. Here was a holy passion. Child that I was—ignorant of love and knowing little enough of evil—I still perceived that this love was surely of the good God Himself. I feared no more for my dear sister. She would be safe with him.
“You may love my sister,” said I, “an you want to. You may have her.”