Herman humbly bowed his head and both approached the bed.
That power--what is it?--awe?--that power which subdues the wildest
passions in the presence of death, calmed the grief of Herman as he
stood over Nora.
She was too far gone for any strong human emotion; but her pale, rigid
face softened and brightened as she recognized him, and she tried to
extend her hand towards him.
He saw and gently took it, and stooped low to hear the sacred words her
dying lips were trying to pronounce.
"Poor, poor boy; don't grieve so bitterly; it wasn't your fault," she
murmured.
"Oh, Nora, your gentle spirit may forgive me, but I never can forgive
myself for the reckless haste that has wrought all this ruin!" groaned
Herman, sinking on his knees and burying his face on the counterpane,
overwhelmed by grief and remorse for the great, unintentional wrong he
had done; and by the impossibility of explaining the cause of his fatal
mistake to this poor girl whose minutes were now numbered.
Softly and tremblingly the dying hand arose, fluttered a moment like a
white dove, and then dropped in blessing on his head.
"May the Lord give the peace that he only can bestow; may the Lord pity
you, comfort you, bless you and save you forever, Herman, poor Herman!"
A few minutes longer her hand rested on his head, and then she removed
it and murmured: "Now leave me for a little while; I wish to speak to my sister."
Herman arose and went out of the hut, where he gave way to the pent-up
storm of grief that could not be vented by the awful bed of death.
Nora then beckoned Hannah, who approached and stooped low to catch her
words.
"Sister, you would not refuse to grant my dying prayers, would you?"
"Oh, no, no, Nora!" wept the woman.
"Then promise me to forgive poor Herman the wrong that he has done us;
he did not mean to do it, Hannah."
"I know he did not, love; he explained it all to me. The first wife was
a bad woman who took him in. He thought she had been killed in a railway
collision, when he married you, and he never found out his mistake until
she followed him home."
"I knew there was something of that sort; but I did not know what. Now,
Hannah, promise me not to breathe a word to any human being of his
second marriage with me; it would ruin him, you know, Hannah; for no one
would believe but that he knew his first wife was living all the time.
Will you promise me this, Hannah?"