She flushed, then became very pale, and fell. They lifted her up, and
Dea laid her head on Gwynplaine's shoulder. Then, with a sigh of
inexpressible sadness, she said, "I know what this is. I am dying." Her
voice grew weaker and weaker.

"An hour ago I wanted to die. Now I want to live. How happy we have
been! You will remember the old Green Box, won't you, and poor blind
Dea? I love you all, my father Ursus, and my brother Homo, very dearly.
You are all so good. I do not understand what has happened these last
two days, but now I am dying. Everything is fading away. Gwynplaine, you
will think of me, won't you? Come to me as soon as you can. Do not leave
me alone long. Oh! I cannot breathe! My beloved!"

Gwynplaine pressed his mouth to her beautiful icy hands. For a moment it
seemed as if she had ceased to breathe. Then her voice rang out clearly.

"Light!" she cried. "I can see!"

With that Dea fell back stiff and motionless on the mattress.

"Dead!" said Ursus.

And the poor old philosopher, crushed by his despair, bowed his head,
and buried his face in the folds of the gown which covered Dea's feet.
He lay there unconscious.

Gwynplaine started up, stretched his hands on high, and said, "I come."

He strode across the deck, towards the side of the vessel, as if
beckoned by a vision. A smile came upon his face, such as Dea had just