She ceased abruptly, for he, convinced now of the certainty of Immortality, was suddenly moved to a strange access of courage and resolution.  Something sweet and subtle stirred in him,—­a sense of power,—­a hint of joy, which completely overcame all dread of death.  Old love revived, grew stronger in his soul, and his gaze rested on the shadowy form beside him, no longer with horror but with tenderness.  She was Ziska-Charmazel,—­she had been his love—­ the dearest portion of his life—­once in the far-off time; she had been the fairest of women—­and more than fair, she had been faithful!  Yes, he remembered that, as he remembered Her!  Every curve in her beautiful body had been a joy for him alone; and for him alone her lips, sweet and fresh as rosebuds, had kept their kisses.  She had loved him as few women have either heart or strength to love, and he had rewarded her fidelity by death and eternal torment!  A struggling cry escaped him, and he stretched out his arms: 

“Ziska!  Forgive—­forgive!”

As he uttered the words, he saw her wan face suddenly change,—­all the terror and torture passed from it like a passing cloud,—­ beautiful as an angel’s, it smiled upon him,—­the eyes softened and flashed with love, the lips trembled, the spectral form glowed with a living luminance, and a mystic Glory glittered above the dusky hair!  Filled with ecstasy at the sight of her wondrous loveliness, he felt nothing of the coldness of death at his heart,—­a divine passion inspired him, and with the last effort of his failing strength he strove to gather all the spirit-like beauty of her being into his embrace.

“Love—­Love!” he cried.  “Not Hate, but Love!  Come back out of the darkness, soul of the woman I wronged!  Forgive me!  Come back to me!  Hell or Heaven, what matters it if we are together!  Come to me,—­come!  Love is stronger than Hate!”

Speech failed him; the cold agony of death gripped at his heart and struck him mute, but still he saw the beautiful passionate eyes of a forgiving Love turned gloriously upon him like stars in the black chaos whither he now seemed rushing.  Then came a solemn surging sound as of great wings beating on a tempestuous air, and all the light in the tomb was suddenly extinguished.  One instant more he stood upright in the thick darkness; then a burning knife seemed plunged into his breast, and he reeled forward and fell, his last hold on life being the consciousness that soft arms were clasping him and drawing him away—­away—­he knew not whither—­and that warm lips, sweet and tender, were closely pressed on his.  And presently, out of the heavy gloom came a Voice which said: 

“Peace!  The old gods are best, and the law is made perfect.  A life demands a life.  Love’s debt must be paid by Love!  The woman’s soul forgives; the man’s repents,—­wherefore they are both released from bondage and the memory of sin.  Let them go hence, the curse is lifted!”

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