Page:Vance--Terence O'Rourke.djvu/399

 mists of morning before the rays of the sun. He saw, and saw, it seemed, more distinctly than ever he had been able to observe, his princess, and the beauty that was hers,—her face close to his, her eyes upon his own, glorious with the light of the love that she bore him.

"Terence!" she whispered again; and he felt her arms close about him, lending him strength to support himself. "Terence, sweetheart! Ah, but you are—" "Dying, madame," he breathed hoarsely. "'Tis me fate … and me desire … to die for ye …"

He heard her sob softly. "But you will not—must not die, sweetheart. You—ah, but I thought you had come back to claim me—at last, Terence, at last! … And I had waited so long, so long, my beloved!"

He passed a hand across his eyes, with the other gripped the back of a chair.

"D'ye mean it?" he cried. "That ye want me, after all, my princess? …"

"Want you, dearest? Ah, but that I might die in your place."

He seemed to concentrate himself as by a powerful putting forth of his will. The veins upon his forehead stood out darkly; the muscles of his jaw were like huge knots beneath his skin. He forced speech between his clenched teeth.

"Is there … chance of escape? …"

"I have locked the doors," she told him. "None can enter. We are alone, and there is a secret way out of the castle."

"Then," he interrupted tensely, "give me brandy … Twas that ye gave me the minute gone? …"

She pressed the edge of a goblet against his lips. He gripped its stem, threw back his head and swallowed, gulp