Fainter and still
fainter grew his breath--but he felt near his heart for a little
crumpled knot of filmy lace which he always carried--a delicate
trifle which had fallen from one of Sylvie's pretty evening gowns
once, when he had caught her in his arms and sworn his passion. He
kissed it now, and inhaled its violet perfume--as he took it from
his lips he saw that it was stained with blood. The heavy languor
upon him grew heavier--and in the dark haze which began to float
before his eyes he saw women's faces, some beautiful, some devilish,
yet all familiar,--he felt himself sinking--sinking into some deep
abyss of shadows, so dark and dreary that he shuddered with the icy
cold and horror, till Sylvie came, yes!--Sylvie's soft eyes shone
upon him, full of the pity and tenderness of some divine angel near
God's throne,--an angel of sweetness--an angel of forgiveness--ah!--
so sweet she was, so childlike, so trusting, so fair, so enticing in
those exquisite ways of hers which had pleaded with him, prayed to
him, tried to draw him back from evil, and incite him to noble
thought; "ways" that would have persuaded him to cleanse his flag of
honour from the mud of social vice and folly, and lift it to the
heavens white and pure! Ah, sweet ways!--sweet voice!--sweet woman!-
-sweet possibilities of life now gone forever! Again that sinking,--
that icy chill! His eyes were closing--yet he forced himself to open
them as he sank back heavily on the turf, and then--then he saw the
great white moon descending on him as it seemed, like a shield of
silver flung down to crush him, by some angry god!
"Sylvie!--Sylvie!" he muttered, "I never knew--how much I loved you-
-till-now! Sylvie!"
His eyes closed--a little smile flickered on his mouth for a moment-
-and then the Shadow fell.
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