.
Yes, murder for jealous love, murder for love despised!"

A new and awful light had then illumined his gloomy mind, and his
face betokened his sufferings, for, though no tears fell down his
hard cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot. In complete self-forgetfulness
he pressed forward, until his way was stopped by a little iron cross
that stood at the head of a grave. "My mother's," he thought. "No,
hers is next."

The organ broke into yet another strain at that moment--a proud,
triumphant peal of song, which in the frenzy of Jason's mind seemed
either to reach up to heaven's gate or to go down to the brink of
hell. There was a movement among the people, a buzz of voices, a
hush, and a whispered cry, "They are coming, they are coming!"

"God bless them," said one.

"Heaven protect them," said another.

And every blessing fell on Jason like a curse. "Murder let it be," he
thought, and turned his eyes where other eyes were looking. Then
passing under the broad arch, stepping out of the blue shadow into
the white sunshine, all radiant in her grace and lovely sweetness,
meek and tender, with tears in her soft brown eyes--it was she, it
was she; it was Greeba--Greeba--Greeba.

Jason felt his strength exhausted. A strange dizziness seized him. He
looked down to avoid the light. His eyes fell on the iron cross
before him, and he read the name graven upon it. _The name was his
own._

Then everything seemed to whirl around him. He remembered no more,
save a shuffling of feet, a dull hum over his head, like the noise
of water in the ears of a drowning man, and a sense of being lifted
and carried.

But another consciousness came to him, and it was very sweet, though
uncertain. He was floating up--up--up to where the mountains were
green, and the sea was tranquil, and the trees made music in the
quiet air. And Greeba was there, and she was laying her cool hand on
his hot forehead, and he was looking at the troubled heaving of her
round bosom. "Aren't you very proud of yourself, Jason?" she was
whispering softly, and then he was clasping the beautiful girl in his
arms and kissing her, and she was springing away, blushing deeply,
and he was holding down his head, and laughing in his heart.

"Lie still, love; lie you still," fell on his ear, and he opened his
eyes. He was in his own room at the little cottage of the caretakers.
The old woman was bending over him, and bathing his forehead with one
hand, while with the other hand