With a violent start the hand was snatched away, but almost immediately it was returned and re-clasped. “Britomarte—now in this supreme hour—now, with my life-blood oozing slowly but surely away—with my hours nay, my very minutes numbered—may I venture to recognize you and call you by your name?—may I venture to confess that I recognized you from the beginning?” he pleaded, still holding and caressing her hand. “Justin! Justin, my beloved! my beloved!” exclaimed Britomarte, whom we shall no longer call by her assumed name of Wing. And she dropped her head upon his bosom and sobbed aloud. He folded his arms around her, and she sobbed until her passion of grief had exhausted itself. Then she raised her head and wiped her eyes. “I am dying, Britomarte! that is nothing; a soldier’s fate—no more. But stoop, my darling, and put your lips to mine, and give me the kiss—the kiss that my heart has hungered for through all these weary years!” he pleaded. She stooped and pressed her lips to his in long, clinging, passionate kisses, murmuring between them: “If you die, I die with you, Justin! I can not survive you, my beloved! I feel my heart sinking with your ebbing life! But oh! that we had our days to live over again! oh, that we had! I would not then repulse your dear love, Justin; I would not! I would not! Ah! how could I have been so unwomanly, so inhuman, as to repel such a heart as yours. Oh, live, Justin! live, that I may undo the work of years, and make you happy if I can!” “My dearest! if anything could make me live in this world, it would be your love, that makes me so happy. But if I die here, Britomarte, we shall live in another and a better world, where all mists shall be cleared from our vision—where we shall know each other as we are, and love each other eternally,” he said, gently caressing her. “Oh, try to live!—to live in _this_ world yet a little while, dear Justin. There is a great deal in trying, you know. Pray to the Lord to help you! Ah, do not cheat yourself out of your beautiful youth-time on this dear earth! The other world may be bright enough, but it is not _this_ sweet, familiar earth! Ah, try to live, dear Justin! let me look at your wound. It has ceased to ooze! it has indeed, dear. The blood is coagulated all around the binding. You WILL live if you only make a strong effort,” urged Britomarte. Her words were like the elixir of life. They put new strength into the sinking man. “If it depends upon me, my dearest one, I shall not die! I will try to live, Britomarte, since life holds out the promise of so much happiness in your love!” “That is right! You WILL live! I know it—I feel it!” “But, my darling, you must go now. Every minute you remain here is fraught with danger to your honor and your liberty. Go, dear Britomarte, go!” “No, I will not leave you! I will stay here and watch you. And now I think of it, you must keep your limb perfectly still. The least motion may set it to bleeding again.”