Will follow me till I die.”
Brand was standing by the piano, with the light of the tall lamp on his face, and I saw that there was a wetness in his eyes before the song was ended.
“It is queer to hear that in Lille,” he said. “It’s so long since I heard a woman sing, and it’s like water to a parched soul.”
Eileen O’Connor played the last bars again and, as she played, talked softly.
“To me, the face of that gentle maiden is a friend’s face. Alice de Villers-Auxicourt, who died in prison.”
“And whether my prayer be granted,
Or whether she pass me by,
The face of that gentle maiden
Will follow me till I die.”
Brand turned over the songs, and suddenly I saw his face flush, and I knew the reason. He had come to the German songs on which was written the name of Franz von Kreuzenach.