The sun was just rising, and she thought she had never seen such a beautiful sight. Out from the rays of the sun there seemed to glide a figure of some person. When it came closer and became more distinct, she recognized Catalina.
The child smiled, and said: “We will be at your wedding, dear Helen.”
“I do not see anyone but you, sweet child,” said Miss Hinckley.
“I mean,” continued Catalina, “Marriet Motuble and I. She will not come, though, unless his Honor is willing.”
“There he comes,” said Miss Hinckley, rising to meet the Governor; “ask him.”
“You were expecting me, dear life. I can hardly realize that this is the day to which I have so long looked forward, the day on which all the world may know that we have conformed to the civil law and are thereby man and wife according to human customs,” said the great Governor, as he folded her in his arms.
“I am sure, my other self, there will be nothing to mar our happiness, since we both remember and are conscious of having sought for each other throughout two existences, and knew no peace until we were found,” replied the woman whom he loved.
“Some one must be hiding close by, dear heart; in fact, I feel the presence of many besides you,” said the Governor, glancing nervously around.
“My other life, my dear heart, I was so rejoiced at seeing you, that I neglected to tell you that we have company. Come; there are Catalina and Marriet Motuble sitting by that big rock.” She led him by the hand to the rock.
“I do not see them,” cried his Honor.