"Mark!" Catherine exclaimed. "Mark! why, how strange you look!"
"Do I?" he said, staring out over the wide plain below.
The voice of the bell died reluctantly on the air, but some huge and vague echo of its heavy romance seemed to sway, like a wave, across the little houses to the sunset and faint towards Seville.
"Yes, you look sad and stern. I have never seen your face like this—till now."
He made no answer.
"Are you sad because we are going so soon?" she asked. "But then why should we go? We are perfectly happy here. There is nothing to call us away."
"Kitty, does not that bell give you the lie?" he answered.
"The bell of the Cathedral?" she asked, wondering.
"Yes. Just now when I listened to it, I seemed to hear it whispering of the mysterious things of life, of the hidden currents in the great river, of the sorrows, of the terrors, of the crimes."
"Mark!" said Catherine in amazement.