Her eyes now were swimming in tears, and Bathurst had much ado to still the mad beating of his heart, and to force his voice to a natural tone. "Lud, my lady," he said, "but he was just like any other body Oi thought." "Not ill?" "Noa! noa! not that Oi could see." "Go back to him, friend," she said, with sudden eagerness, "tell him that he must come to me at once ... I ... I would speak with him." It required all Bathurst’s firm strength of will not to betray himself before her. The tender pleading in her eyes, the gentle, womanly sympathy in her voice, set all his pulses beating. But he had made up his mind that she should not know him just then. A look, a cry, might give him away, and there was but one chance now to be of useful service to her, and that was to take the letters at once to London, whilst their joint enemy had for the nonce no thought of him. Therefore he contrived to say quite stolidly,— "Noa, noa, the gentleman said to Oi, ’You can bring a message, but th’ lady mustn’t come nigh me!’" She gave a quick little sigh of disappointment. "Then, my good fellow," she said, "try to remember ... tell him ... tell him ... I would wish to thank him ... tell him.... Nay! nay!" she suddenly added, pulling a faded white rose from her belt, "tell him nothing ... but give him this flower ... in token that I have received his letter ... and will act as he bids me.... You’ll remember?" He dared not trust himself to speak, but as she held out the rose to him he took it from her hand and involuntarily his finger-tips came in contact with hers just for a second ... long enough for the divine magnetism of his great love to pass from him to her. She seized hold of his hand, for in that one magnetic touch she had recognised him. Her heart gave a great leap of joy, the joy of being near him once more, of again feeling the tender, grey eyes resting with passionate longing on her face. But she uttered neither cry nor word, for it was a great, silent and godlike moment—when at last she understood. He had stooped still lower and rested his burning lips upon her cool fingers, and upon the rose which she had worn at her breast. Neither of them spoke, for their hearts were in perfect unison, their whole being thrilled with the wild, jubilant echo of a divine hosanna, and around them the legions of God’s angels made a rampart of snow-white wings, to shut out all the universe from them, leaving them alone with their love. CHAPTER XXXIV A LIFE FOR A LIFE That moment was brief, as all such great and happy moments are. But a few seconds had passed since both her hands had rested in his, and he forgot the world in that one kiss upon her finger-tips. The next instant a fast-approaching noise of hurrying footsteps, accompanied by much shouting, roused them from their dream.