"Assuredly," replied Solomon Eagle, "assuredly! You have not erred wilfully, but through ignorance, and therefore have committed no offence. You will be forgiven—but woe to your deceiver, here and hereafter."
"Oh' say not so," she cried. "May Heaven pardon him as I do. While I have strength left I will pray for him." And she poured forth her supplications for the earl in terms so earnest and pathetic, that the tears flowed down Solomon Eagle's rough cheek. At this juncture, hasty steps were heard in the adjoining passage, and the door opening, admitted the Earl of Rochester, who rushed towards the bed.
"Back!" cried Solomon Eagle, pushing him forcibly aside. "Back!"
"What do you here?" cried Rochester, fiercely.
"I am watching over the death-bed of your victim," returned Solomon Eagle. "Retire, my lord. You disturb her."
"Oh, no," returned Amabel, meekly. "Let him come near me." And as Solomon Eagle drew a little aside, and allowed the earl to approach, she added, "With my latest breath I forgive you, my lord, for the wrong you have done me, and bless you."
The earl tried to speak, but his voice was suffocated by emotion. As soon as he could find words, he said, "Your goodness completely overpowers me, dearest Amabel. Heaven is my witness, that even now I would make you all the reparation in my power were it needful. But it is not so. The wrong I intended you was never committed. I myself was deceived. I intended a feigned marriage, but it was rightfully performed. Time will not allow me to enter into further particulars of the unhappy transaction, but you may credit my assertion when I tell you you are indeed my wife, and Countess of Rochester."
"If I thought so, I should die happy," replied Amabel.
"Behold this proof!" said Rochester, producing the certificate.
"I cannot read it," replied Amabel. "But you could not have the heart to deceive me now."