and stood between them. Joining their hands he gently pushed them
forward to the middle of the hall where the Wanderer stood alone.

"It is done!" Unorna cried, as her heart broke.

She saw the scene she had acted so short a time before. She heard the
passionate cry, the rain of kisses, the tempest of tears. The expiation
was complete. Not a sight, not a sound was spared her. The strong arms
of the ancient sleeper held her upright on her feet. She could not fall,
she could not close her eyes, she could not stop her ears, no merciful
stupor overcame her.

"Is it so bitter to do right?" the old man asked, bending low and
speaking softly.

"It is the bitterness of death," she said.

"It is well done," he answered.

Then came a noise of hurried steps and a loud, deep voice, calling,
"Unorna! Unorna!"

Keyork Arabian was there. He glanced at Beatrice and the Wanderer,
locked in each other's arms, then turned to Unorna and looked into her
face.

"It has killed her," he said. "Who did it?"

His low-spoken words echoed like angry thunder.

"Give her to me," he said again. "She is mine--body and soul."

But the great strong arms were around her and would not let her go.

"Save me!" she cried in failing tones. "Save me from him!"

"You have saved yourself," said the solemn voice of the old man.

"Saved?" Keyork laughed. "From me?" He laid his hand upon her arm. Then
his face changed again, and his laughter died dismally away, and he hung
back.

"Can you forgive her?" asked the other voice.

The Wanderer stood close to them now, drawing Beatrice to his side. The
question was for them.

"Can you forgive me?" asked Unorna faintly, turning her eyes towards
them.

"As we hope to find forgiveness and trust in a life to come," they
answered.

There was a low sound in the air, unearthly, muffled, desperate as of
a strong being groaning in awful agony. When they looked, they saw that
Keyork Arabian was gone.

The dawn of a coming day rose in Unorna's face as she sank back.

"It is over," she sighed, as her eyes closed.

Her question was answered; her love had saved her.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Witch of Prague, by F. Marion Crawford

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WITCH OF PRAGUE ***

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