ice a broken heart.

"Here is where we stood that night together," she murmurs, pressing her
lips to the hard, cold stones. "It is just as it was then. Oh, my
love--my love, come back to me! Come back--even from the cold grave!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Eanswyth!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The word is breathed in a low, unsteady voice. Every drop of blood
within her turns to ice. It is answered at last, her oft-repeated
prayer. She is about to behold him. Does she not shrink from it? Not
by a hair's-breadth.

"Let me see you, my love," she murmurs softly, not daring to move lest
the spell should be broken. "Where--where are you?"

"Where our hearts first met--there they meet again. Look up, my sweet
one. I am here."

She does look up. In the red and boding glare of those ominous
war-fires she sees him as she saw him that night. She springs to her
feet--and a loud and thrilling cry goes forth upon the darkness.

"Eustace--Eustace! Oh, my love! Spirit or flesh--you shall not leave
me! At last--at last!"

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

FROM DEATH AND--TO DEATH.

She realised it at length--realised that this was no visitant from the
spirit-world conjured up in answer to her impassioned prayer, but her
lover himself, alive and unharmed. She had thrown herself upon his
breast, and clung to him with all her strength, sobbing passionately--
clung to him as if even then afraid that he might vanish as suddenly as
he had appeared.

"My love, my love," he murmured in that low magnetic tone which she knew
so well, and which thrilled her to the heart's core. "Calm those poor
nerves, my darling, and rest on the sweetness of our meeting. We met--
our hearts met first on this very spot. Now they meet once more, never
again to part."

Still her feeling was too strong for words; she could only cling to him
in silence, while he covered her face and soft hair with kisses. A
moment ago she was mourning him as dead, was burying her heart in his
unknown and far-away grave, and lo, as by magic, he stood before her,
and she was safe in his embrace. A moment ago life was one long vista
of blank, agonising grief; now the joys of heaven itself might pale
before the unutterable bliss of this meeting.

Unlawful or not as their love might be, there was something solemn,
almost sacred, in its intense reality. The myri