ar to look upon her. With tears in
his eyes he murmured, "Good-bye, my dearest. My heart is too heavy. I
can say no more. Do not sorrow, darling. Nothing can part us
now--neither life nor death."

Like a transfigured spirit bending down to an angel, he stooped and
touched her sweet mouth. In a gentle kiss, in which their hovering souls
only glided tremorously from afar to meet each other with fluttering
wings, he took from her yielding lips the seal of her pure love. As he
did so, there came a crashing sound from the dark trees around them.

"You scoundrel!" cried Flamin, rushing down into the hollow, his eyes
gleaming in the moonlight, and his face white with anger. "Take it, take
it! I will have your blood for this!"

He had two pistols in his hand, and he thrust one fiercely towards
Victor. The Englishman drew Clotilda aside, and then went up to his
friend, saying, "I have not wronged you. Believe me, Flamin, I remember
the oath I gave you, and I swear that I have been faithful to you. Only
wait until I see my father, and everything will be explained."

"I want no explanation, you faithless scoundrel," shouted Flamin, "Take
it, or I will kill you where you stand."

In his blind fury he was pointing the muzzle of the pistol at the
trembling form of Clotilda, and Victor snatched the weapon from him in
order to save her.

"I will have blood for this--blood, blood!" Flamin kept saying, reeling
about the floor of the dell like a drunken man.

"You are my brother, my brother!" cried Clotilda. "Don't you hear? You
are my brother!"

She ran up to Flamin to take the pistol from him, but reeled and fell to
the ground in a swoon. Victor looked at her wildly, and thinking that
she was dead, turned upon Flamin.

"If you want blood," he said sternly, "take mine."

"You fire first," exclaimed Flamin.

Victor lifted his pistol up into the air and shot at the top of a tree;
then he stood calm and silent waiting for Flamin to fire. His old friend
pointed the pistol straight at his heart, but hesitated; and Clotilda
recovered her senses and staggered to her feet, and threw herself before
her lover. Flamin looked at them in gloomy wonder without lowering his
pistol. He would have liked to kill them both with one shot, but the
instinct of a life-long friendship unnerved him. He hurled his pistol
away, saying, "It isn't worth troubling to kill a scoundrel like you,"
and then turned and strode fiercely through the forest.