She stooped her face to his. He turned his lips instinctively to meet
it, and suddenly it was as though a flame had kindled between them--hot,
ardent, compelling. His dying pulses thrilled to it, his blood ran
warmer.

"You--have--come--back!" he said, with slow articulation.

"My darling--my darling!" she made quivering answer. "Say I've come--in
time!"

He tried to speak again, but could not. Yet the deathly cold was giving
way like ice before the sun. He could feel his heart beating where
before he had felt nothing. A hand that was not Puck's came out of the
void beyond her and held a spoonful of spirit to his mouth. He swallowed
it with difficulty, and was conscious of a greater warmth.

"There, my own boy, my own boy!" she murmured over him. "You're coming
back to me. Say you're coming back!"

His lips quivered like a child's. He forced them to answer her. "If
you--will--stay," he said.

"I will never leave you again, darling," she made swift answer. "Never,
never again! You shall have all that you want--all--all!"

Her arms closed about him. He felt the warmth of her body, the
passionate nearness of her soul; and therewith the flame that had
kindled between them leaped to a great and burning glow, encompassing
them both--the Sacred Fire.