Gently and unceasingly he plied his soothing task; and soon, to his joy
and triumph, he beheld the approaching reward of his efforts, in the
slow changes that became gradually perceptible in the girl's face and
manner. She raised herself in his arms, looked up fixedly and vacantly
into his face, then round upon the bright, quiet landscape, then back
again more stedfastly upon her companion; and at length, trembling
violently, she whispered softly and several times the young Goth's name,
glancing at him anxiously and apprehensively, as if she feared and
doubted while she recognised him.
'You are bearing me to my death,'--said she suddenly. 'You, who once
protected me--you, who forsook me!--You are luring me into the power of
the woman who thirsts for my blood!--Oh, it is horrible--horrible!'
She paused, averted her face, and shuddering violently, disengaged
herself from his arms. After an interval, she continued:--
'Through the long day, and in the beginning of the cold night, I have
waited in one solitary place for the death that is in store for me! I
have suffered all the loneliness of my hours of expectation, without
complaint; I have listened with little dread, and no grief, for the
approach of my enemy who has sworn that she will shed my blood! Having
none to love me, and being a stranger in the land of my own nation, I
have nothing to live for! But it is a bitter misery to me to behold in
you the fulfiller of my doom; to be snatched by the hand of Hermanric
from the heritage of life that I have so long struggled to preserve!'
Her voice had altered, as she pronounced these words, to an impressive
lowness and mournfulness of tone.
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