“Yes, courage.... Don’t you see what I’ve come to tell you, Mona? Come, don’t you? When the idea came to me first I thought you might be afraid and perhaps faint and even try to turn me from my purpose, so I made up my mind to say nothing. But when the order came to-night I said to myself, ‘No, she’s not like some women. She’s brave; she’ll see there’s nothing else for it.’”
Mona sees what is coming, and her heart is throbbing hard, but she says:
“Tell me. It’s better that I should know, Oskar.”
With that he gets closer to her and speaks in a whisper, as if afraid the very walls may hear:
“When they look for me in the morning I shall be gone.... Don’t you understand me now?—gone! So I’ve come to-night to say farewell. We are meeting for the last time, Mona.”
He looks at her, thinking she will cry out, perhaps scream, but her eyes are shining. All the pain in the thought of their parting has passed away with a mighty rushing.
“Oskar,” she says, “don’t you think it would be just as hard for me ... to stay here after you were ... gone?”
The tears are in Oskar’s eyes now, for flesh is weak and his wild heart is softening.
“What would become of me without you, Oskar?”