'Before we started on our journey you made me promise that I would not
distress the poor lady with questions,' the girl went on. 'I have kept
my promise, and have never alluded to the doubts or the painful
uncertainty which weigh on my mind. There is so much that is dark and
enigmatic to me in all the circumstances connected with that terrible
event. One thing only I divine, namely, that Edmund voluntarily sought
his death. Why? To this hour the question has been left unanswered. It
remains to me a mystery. There should be no secrets between us,
Oswald. You must answer me now when I pray and entreat you to tell me
the truth. I cannot, will not see that dark cloud upon your brow.'
She could use the language of entreaty now, could beseech with all the
intensity and power of love; and here she was sure of victory. Oswald
clasped her more tightly in his arms.
'No, my Hedwig, there must be nothing secret between us. All must be
clear and open as day. But not now, and not here, can I disclose to
you that sad story of guilt with all its fatal consequences. I cannot
tell that story to my betrothed. When you are my wife, you shall hear
what drove Edmund to his death, what is gradually, irresistibly
drawing his mother after him to the grave. That dark shadow must not
intervene to mar the brightness of this hour. So often have I dreamed
of it, aye, dreamed from the moment your sweet face first dawned on me
in the midst of that fierce snowstorm. You came to me, a spring-day
personified, with all its promises of hope and happiness--though then,
indeed, I could not, dare not hope those promises would ever be
fulfilled.'
Hedwig looked up at him. She had not quite forgotten her old arch,
sunny smile. It played about her lips with all its own bewitching
charm as she replied:
'Why not? We met for the first time in a March storm, and here, on
this very spot, when you were speaking so gloomily of life in general
and of your own sad past, I proclaimed to you that Spring, bright
happy Spring, would come at last.'
As an echo to her words sounded the low murmured greeting of the
swallows fluttering overhead, as they had fluttered on that former day
in the thick drizzling mist. But now they winged their airy flight in
full sunshine. Higher and higher they soared, until they disappeared
in the illimitable azure of the sky. These small feathered messengers,
which bring to the earth after its long winter sleep a promise of new
light and life, came this time charged with a still fairer mission.
They brought ease to longing hearts, rest after a cruel fight, a whole
springtime of peace and happiness to two loving human beings.
THE END.
BILLING & SONS. PRINTERS. GUILDFORD
_G. C. & Co_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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