“As the last ray of daylight stills the winds and spreads tranquillity through the sky, so the old man’s calm language appeased the passions in the bosom of my lover. She no longer thought of anything but my grief, and of the means for enabling me to support her loss. At first she said that she should die happy if I would promise her to dry my tears; then she spoke to me of my mother and of my country, and endeavored to distract me from present grief by referring to past sufferings. She exhorted me to patience and virtue. ‘You will not always be unhappy,’ she said; ‘if Heaven tries you to-day, it is merely to render you more compassionate for the ills of others. The heart, Chactas, is like those trees that only yield their balm for healing men’s wounds after having been themselves seared with iron.’ “When she had thus spoken, Atala turned towards the missionary, seeking from him the consolation she had been endeavoring to impart to me; and, by turns consoling and consoled, she gave and received the word of life; upon the couch of death. “Nevertheless, the hermit redoubled his zeal. With the torch of religion in his hand, he appeared to be guiding Atala to the tomb, to show her its secret wonders. The humble grotto was full of the grandeur of this Christian agony, and the heavenly spirits were no doubt attentive to the scene, in which Religion had to struggle alone against Love, Youth and Death. “Divine Religion triumphed, and her victory was perceptible from the holy sadness that followed our hearts’ previous passionate transports. Towards the middle of the night, Atala seemed to revive, and repeated the prayers pronounced by the monk at the side of her couch. Shortly afterwards, she offered me her hand, and, in a voice scarcely audible, said, ‘Son of Outalissi, do you remember the night when you took me for the Virgin of the Last Loves? What a singular omen of our destiny! She stopped, then continued: ‘When I think that I am leaving you for ever, my heart makes such an effort to live, that I feel almost strong enough to render myself immortal by the power of my love. But, O God! Thy will be done!’ Atala became silent during a few instants; then she added: ‘It only remains for me to ask your pardon for all the ills I have caused you. Chactas, a little earth thrown upon my body will place a world between you and me, and will deliver you forever from the weight of my calamities!’ “‘Pardon you!’ I exclaimed, drowned in tears; ‘Is it not I who have caused all your misfortunes?’ ‘My friend,’ she replied, interrupting me, ‘you have rendered me very happy, and if I had to begin my life over again, I should still prefer the happiness of having loved you for a few short moments in an exile of adversity to an entire life of repose in my own country.’ [Illustration: 084]