Between Snow and Fire — page 222: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- oe 4% ale Sy ge Coe AND EEE Eustace, my life?’’ she said at last, raising her head. “When they told me you were dead I knew it would not be long before I joined you. I could not have endured this living death much longer.” There were those who pronounced Eanswyth Carhayes to be the most beautiful woman they had ever beheld—who had started with amazement at such an apparition on an out-of-the-way Kaffrarian farm. A grand creature, they declared, but a trifle too cold. They would have marvelled that they had ever passed such a verdict could they but have seen her now, her splendid eyes burning into those of her lover in the starlight as she went on : “You are longing to ask what I am doing here in this place all alone and atsuchatime. This. I came here as to asanctuary : a sacred spot which enshrined all the dearest memories of you. Here in silence and in solitude I could conjure up visions of you—could see you walking beside me as on that last day we spent together. Here I could kneel and kiss the floor, the very earth which your feet had trod; and—O Eustace, my very life, it was a riven and a shattered heart I offered up daily—hourly— at the shrine of your dear memory.” | Her tones thrilled upon his ear. Never had life held such a delirious, intoxicating moment. ‘To the cool, philo- sophical, strong-nerved man it seemed as if his very senses were slipping away from him under the thrilling love-tones of this stately, beautiful creature nestling within his arms, Again their lips met—met as they had met that first time— met as if they were never again to part. “Inkose !” The sudden sonorous interruption caused Eanswyth to start as if she had been shot, and well it might. Her lover, however, had passed through too many strange and stirring experiences of late to be otherwise than slightly and mo- mentarily disconcerted. A dark figure stood at the lowest step of the stoep, one hand raised in the air, after the dignified and graceful manner of native salutation, “Greeting, Josane,”’ he replied. ‘Now do mine eyes behold a goodly sight,” went on the old Kafir with animation, speaking in the pleasing figurative hyperbole of his race. ‘“ My father and friend is safe home once more. We have mourned him as dead and he is alive Gomilchbooks co mn