"No, Gretchen," said I, "he does not doubt it, but he wishes me to do
so. I believe in your innocence as I believe in your love."
"It is sad, is it not," said she, "that we must go through our days
loving each other and all the world standing between? I have never
loved a man before; I did not want to love you. I did not know that I
loved you till I saw that your life was in danger. Yet I am glad that
I have lived for a brief second, for till a woman loves she does not
live. I am brave; do you be likewise. I shall go back to the world,
and who shall know of the heart of fire beneath the ice! Not even the
man I love. Kiss me; it is the last kiss I shall take from the lips of
any man."
And it seemed to me that our souls met in that last kiss, melted and
became one. Her hands dropped to her side, and swiftly she sped from
the room.
She had entered the coach. The cavalrymen were perched upon the box.
There was a crack of the lash, and the coach rolled away. I watched
it, standing in the road. A cloud of yellow dust partially obscured it
from view. Half a mile beyond rose a small hill. This the coach
mounted, and the red gold of the smoldering sun engulfed it. Was it a
face I saw at the window? Perhaps. Then over the hill all
disappeared, and with it the whole world, and I stood in emptiness,
alone.
Gretchen had gone.