rbid that I should be his ruin! Oh, what a
sweet dream he painted! But praise be to the blessed saints that kept
me strong. Yet, at the last I was weak. I could not live without
another sight of his face, and so--so I came. Next week I am--I was to
take the veil, and I came here to see him once again--God pardon me
for it--but I could not help it. Ah, madam, I know you, and I see now
your beauty. Have you known love?"

"No," said Osra; and she moved her hand near to the lady's hand.

"And when he found me here he prayed me again to do what he asked, and
I was half killed in denying it. But I prevailed, and we were even
then parting when you came. Why, why did I come?" And for a moment her
voice died away in a low, soft moan. But she made one more effort.
Clasping Osra's hand in her delicate fingers, she whispered: "I am
going. Be his wife."

"No, no, no!" whispered Osra, her face now close to the lady's. "You
must live you must live and be happy." And then she kissed the lady's
lips. The lady put out her arms, and clasped them round Osra's neck;
and again she whispered softly in Osra's ear. Neither Ludwig nor the
bishop heard what she said, but they heard only that Osra sobbed.
Presently the lady's arms relaxed a little in their hold, and Osra,
having kissed her again, rose, and signed to Ludwig to come nearer;
while she, turning, gave her hand to the bishop, and he led her from
the room, and finding another room near, took her in there, where she
sat silent and pale.

Thus half an hour passed; then the bishop stole softly out, and
presently returned, saying:

"God has spared her the long, painful path, and has taken her straight
to his rest."

Osra heard him, half in a trance, and as if she did not hear; she did
not know whither he went, nor what he did, nor anything that passed,
until, as it seemed, after a long while, she looked up, and saw Prince
Ludwig standing before her. He was composed and calm, but it seemed as
if half the life had gone out of his face. Osra rose slowly to her
feet, supporting herself on an arm of the chair on which she had sat,
and when she had seen his face she suddenly threw herself on the floor
at his feet, crying:

"Forgive me! Forgive me!"

"The guilt is mine," said he; "for I did not trust you, and did by
stealth what your nobility would have suffered openly. The guilt is
mine." And he offered to raise her, but she rose unaided, asking with
choking voice:

"Is she dead?"