his treasure to count it again and again, so I numbered each moment, and

grudged every one that was not spent with Idris. I returned swiftly to the

chamber where the life of my life reposed; before I entered the room I

paused for a few seconds; for a few seconds I tried to examine my state;

sickness and shuddering ever and anon came over me; my head was heavy, my

chest oppressed, my legs bent under me; but I threw off resolutely the

swift growing symptoms of my disorder, and met Idris with placid and even

joyous looks. She was lying on a couch; carefully fastening the door to

prevent all intrusion; I sat by her, we embraced, and our lips met in a

kiss long drawn and breathless--would that moment had been my last!

Maternal feeling now awoke in my poor girl's bosom, and she asked: "And

Alfred?"

"Idris," I replied, "we are spared to each other, we are together;

do not let any other idea intrude. I am happy; even on this fatal night, I

declare myself happy, beyond all name, all thought--what would you more,

sweet one?"

Idris understood me: she bowed her head on my shoulder and wept. "Why," she

again asked, "do you tremble, Lionel, what shakes you thus?"

Well may I be shaken," I replied, "happy as I am. Our child is dead, and

the present hour is dark and ominous. Well may I tremble! but, I am happy,

mine own Idris, most happy."

444

The Last Man