There was no fear in her eyes as she saw
Nathaniel. Something more terrible than that shone in their glorious
depths as she rose to her feet and stood before him, her face lined with
grief, her mouth twitching in agony. She stood with clenched hands, her
bosom rising and falling in the passion of the storm within her; and she
sobbed even as Nathaniel paused there, unmanned in this sudden presence
of a distress greater than his own; sobbed in a choking, tearless way,
waiting for him to speak.
"Forgive me," he spoke gently. "I have come--for--Marion." He felt that
he had no reason to lie to this woman. His face betrayed his own anguish
as he came nearer to her. "I want Marion," he repeated. "My God, won't
you tell me--?"
She struggled to calm herself as he spoke the girl's name.
"Marion is not here," she said. She crushed his hands against her bosom
and a softer look came into her eyes; her voice was low and sweet, as it
had been the morning he asked for Strang. As she saw the despair
deepening in the man's face a great pity swept over her and she
stretched out her arms to him with an aching cry, "Marion is
gone--gone--gone," she moaned, "and you must go, too! O, I know you love
her--she told me that you loved her, as I love Strang, my king! We have
both lost--lost--and you must go--as--I--shall--go!" She turned away
from him with a cry so heart-breaking in its pain that Nathaniel felt
himself trembling to the soul. In another instant she had faced him
again, fighting back a strange calm into her face.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131