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Timidly, for my vehemence somewhat terrified her, Idris looked on me. My
eyes were bloodshot, starting from my head; every artery beat, methought,
audibly, every muscle throbbed, each single nerve felt. Her look of wild
affright told me, that I could no longer keep my secret:--"So it is, mine
own beloved," I said, "the last hour of many happy ones is arrived, nor can
we shun any longer the inevitable destiny. I cannot live long--but, again
and again, I say, this moment is ours!"
Paler than marble, with white lips and convulsed features, Idris became
aware of my situation. My arm, as I sat, encircled her waist. She felt the
palm burn with fever, even on the heart it pressed:--"One moment," she
murmured, scarce audibly, "only one moment."--
She kneeled, and hiding her face in her hands, uttered a brief, but earnest
prayer, that she might fulfil her duty, and watch over me to the last.
While there was hope, the agony had been unendurable;--all was now
concluded; her feelings became solemn and calm. Even as Epicharis,
unperturbed and firm, submitted to the instruments of torture, did Idris,
suppressing every sigh and sign of grief, enter upon the endurance of
torments, of which the rack and the wheel are but faint and metaphysical
symbols.
I was changed; the tight-drawn cord that sounded so harshly was loosened,
the moment that Idris participated in my knowledge of our real situation.
The perturbed and passion-tossed waves of thought subsided, leaving only
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