About three hours after this, as I lay upon the couch in the large
room, clean and well shaven, the door opened, and some one entered,
saying to my guard, "You will remain outside. I have the Governor's
order."
I knew the voice; an instant, and I saw the face shining with
expectancy, the eyes eager, yet timid, a small white hand pressed
to a pulsing breast--my one true friend, the jailer of my heart.
For a moment she was all trembling and excited, her hand softly
clutching at my shoulder, tears dripping from her eyes and falling
on my cheek, as hers lay pressed to mine; but presently she grew
calm, and her face was lifted with a smile, and, brushing back some
flying locks of hair, she said in a tone most quaint and touching
too, "Poor gentleman! poor English prisoner! poor hidden lover!
I ought not, I ought not," she added, "show my feelings thus, nor
excite you so." My hand was trembling on hers, for in truth I
was very weak. "It was my purpose," she continued, "to come most
quietly to you; but there are times when one must cry out, or the
heart will burst."
I spoke then as a man may who has been delivered from bondage
into the arms of love. She became very quiet, looking at me in her
grave, sweet way, her deep eyes shining with a sincerity.
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