To the Last Man - BestLightNovel.com
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"For me!" he cried, poignantly. "Oh, Ellen! Ellen! the world has come to an end! ... Hus.h.!.+ don't keep sayin' that. Of course you killed him.
You saved my life. For I'd never have let you go off with him ....
Yes, you killed him.... You're a Jorth an' I'm an Isbel ... We've blood on our hands--both of us--I for you an' you for me!"
His voice of entreaty and sadness strengthened her and she raised her white face, loosening her clasp to lean back and look up. Tragic, sweet, despairing, the loveliness of her--the significance of her there on her knees--thrilled him to his soul.
"Blood on my hands!" she whispered. "Yes. It was awful--killing him.... But--all I care for in this world is for your forgiveness--and your faith that saved my soul!"
"Child, there's nothin' to forgive," he responded. "Nothin'... Please, Ellen..."
"I lied to y'u!" she cried. "I lied to y'u!"
"Ellen, listen--darlin'." And the tender epithet brought her head and arms back close-pressed to him. "I know--now," he faltered on. "I found out to-day what I believed. An' I swear to G.o.d--by the memory of my dead mother--down in my heart I never, never, never believed what they--what y'u tried to make me believe. NEVER!"
"Jean--I love y'u--love y'u--love y'u!" she breathed with exquisite, pa.s.sionate sweetness. Her dark eyes burned up into his.
"Ellen, I can't lift you up," he said, in trembling eagerness, signifying his crippled arm. "But I can kneel with you! ..."
