Look, look," and she began to pluck
feverishly with her poor thin hand at the black veil that enshrouded
her. At last it came off, and, as in a dream, I saw what in a dim frozen
way I had expected to see--the white face and pale yellow hair of my
dead wife. Unable to speak or to stir, I gazed and gazed. There was no
mistake about it, it was she, ay, even as I had last seen her, white
with the whiteness of death, with purple circles round her eyes and the
grave-cloth yet beneath her chin. Only her eyes were wide open and fixed
upon my face; and a lock of the soft yellow hair had broken loose, and
the wind tossed it.
"You know me now, Frank--don't you, Frank? It has been so hard to come
to see you, and so cold! But you are going to be married to-morrow,
Frank; and I promised--oh, a long time ago--to think of you when you
were going to be married wherever I was, and I have kept my promise, and
I have come from where I am and brought a present with me. It was bitter
to die so young! I was so young to die and leave you, but I had to go.
Take it--take it; be quick, I cannot stay any longer. _I could not give
you my life, Frank, so I have brought you my death--take it!_"
The figure thrust the basket into my hand, and as it did so the rain
came up again, and began to obscure the moonlight.
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