“Yes, I love thee,” replied Death. “Ungrateful boy, why dost thou doubt it?”
“Then good-bye until to-morrow,” said Tito, giving his hand to the terrible divinity.
Elena continued standing before her lover.
“Until to-morrow,” she responded, as if she had heard the phrase—as if answering another secret voice—as if divining the youth’s thoughts;—and slowly turning she left the royal chamber.
Tito approached the king’s bed.
The Duke of Monteclaro placed himself at his side, and said to him in a low voice:—
“If the king dies, you will celebrate your marriage with my daughter to-morrow; the queen has just informed me of the death of the Viscount of Rionuevo. I have announced your wedding with Elena, and she congratulates you both with all her heart. To-morrow you will be the first person of the Court, if Louis really passes to the tomb to-day.”
“But do not doubt it, Sire,” responded Tito, with sepulchral accent.
“Then farewell until to-morrow,” said Monteclaro, solemnly.