him. I had never before thought him handsome, but the pallor of his skin made his eyes dark and full of languor; the moisture upon his hair gave it a gloss which it never had worn in health, and his lips were full and crimson. To me, at that moment, he looked surpassingly beautiful.
He saw me at once, and after we had gazed at each other for a few moments, he put out his arms and said, "Louise, Louise;" and I sank down into his arms.
The lights in the room had burned out, and the first gray tints of morning began to appear, when I felt a fearful shudder pass over Mark's form, and he writhed himself free from my embrace. Then he asked hoarsely for water.
I sprang up, gave him a drink, and then stood at his bedside.
His eyes were on fire; his cheeks were covered with a burning flush, and his hands trembled as he used them in gesticulation.
"Louise," he said, "I am dying."
Then an indefinable terror seized me, and I crouched down beside the bed, but my eyes were fascinatedly fixed upon his.
"Louise, they told me, the doctors told me, that you were my death; they told me that your love had killed me; and they wanted me to quit you, Louise."
He put out his arms toward me, but I shrank from him with my blood curdled.
"Louise, I mocked at them. I said you could not kill me, for you had my life and soul in you as well as your own. God! what a pain!"
His form was thrown up from the bed in his agony, and then fell down again.
"Mark, what can I do for you, darling?"
"Did you speak, Louise!" he said with a wild stare. "I saw your lips move, but only heard your low, sweet voice saying, 'Mark, Mark, I love you.' I hear it always. I feel your breath upon my lips now. Come here, Louise. Quick!"
I bent toward him. His arms caught me in a fierce embrace, and so he held me as if he would have pressed my very life into his bosom, and he fastened his red lips on mine.
