"Good-bye for the present, dear husband," said Greta, and smiled. "Who would have thought that this calamity could wait for you at the very steps of God's altar?" "A day will turn all this evil into good." "At the threshold of our life together to be torn apart!" "Think of it no more, dearest. Our lives will yet be the brighter for this calamity. Do you remember what Parson Christian used to say? The happiest life is not that which is always in the sunlight, but rather that over which a dark cloud has once lowered and passed away." Paul shook his head. "My lips are sealed. You do not know all. It is a cruel lie that separates us. But what if it can not be disproved?" Greta's eyes were full of a radiant hopefulness. "It can, and shall!" Paul bent his head and touched her forehead with his lips. "The past is a silence that gives back no answer," he said. "My mother alone could disprove it, and she is dead to the world." "Not alone, dearest. I can disprove it. Wait and see!" Paul smiled coldly, and once more shook his head. "You don't know all," he said again, and kissed her reverently. "What if to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow brings no light to unravel this mystery?" "Never fear it. The finger of Heaven is in this," said Greta. "Say, rather, the hand of destiny. And how little we are in the presence of that pitiless power!" "God sees all," said Greta. "He has led me in here, and He will guide me out again." "What if I brought you for a day, and you remain for a year, for life?" "Then think that God Himself has taken your wife at your hands." Paul's face, that had worn a look of deep dejection, became distorted with pain. "Oh, it is horrible! And this cloister is to be your marriage-bed!" "Hush! All is peace here. Good-bye, dearest Paul. Be brave, my husband." "Brave? Before death a man may be brave; but in the face of a calamity like this, what man could be brave?" "God will turn it away." "God grant it. But I tremble to ask for the truth. The future is not more awful to me now than the past." "Keep up heart, dear Paul. You know how pleasant it is to fall asleep amid storms that shake the trees, and to awake in the stillness and the sunshine, and amid the songs of the birds. To-morrow the falsehood will be outfaced, and you will return to fetch me." "Yes," said Paul, "or else drag out my days as an outcast in the world." "No, no, no. Good-bye, dearest." Then the voice of the comforter failed her, and she dropped her head on his breast. The choir within chanted the matin service. Paul removed the iron bar that crossed the door, and opened it. The opposite side of the street was a blank wall, with gaunt boughs of leafless trees behind it and above it, and beyond all was the dim sanctuary. Traffic's deep buzz flowed in the distance. The dawn had reddened the eastern sky, and the towers of the abbey were black against the glory of the coming day.