"O Harold!" she exclaimed, "dost thou remember that in the old time I
said, 'Edith had loved thee less, if thou hadst not loved England more
than Edith?' Recall, recall those words. And deemest thou now that
I, who have gazed for years into thy clear soul, and learned there to
sun my woman's heart in the light of all glories native to noblest
man, deemest thou, O Harold, that I am weaker now than then, when I
scarce knew what England and glory were?"

"Edith, Edith, what wouldst thou say?--What knowest thou?--Who hath
told thee?--What led thee hither, to take part against thyself?"

"It matters not who told me; I know all. What led me? Mine own soul,
and mine own love!" Springing to her feet and clasping his hand in
both hers, while she looked into his face, she resumed: "I do not say
to thee, 'Grieve not to part;' for I know too well thy faith, thy
tenderness--thy heart, so grand and so soft. But I do say, 'Soar
above thy grief, and be more than man for the sake of men!' Yes,
Harold, for this last time I behold thee. I clasp thy hand, I lean on
thy heart, I hear its beating, and I shall go hence without a tear."

"It cannot, it shall not be!" exclaimed Harold, passionately. "Thou
deceivest thyself in the divine passion of the hour: thou canst not
foresee the utterness of the desolation to which thou wouldst doom thy
life. We were betrothed to each other by ties strong as those of the
Church,--over the grave of the dead, under the vault of heaven, in the
form of ancestral faith! The bond cannot be broken. If England
demands me, let England take me with the ties it were unholy, even for
her sake, to rend!"

"Alas, alas!" faltered Edith, while the flush on her cheek sank into