have lived on! What a happy life we led in our poor caravan! How we

sang! How I listened to the applause! What joy it was never to be

separated from each other! It seemed to me that I was living in a cloud

with you; I knew one day from another, although I was blind. I knew that

it was morning, because I heard Gwynplaine; I felt that it was night,

because I dreamed of Gwynplaine. I felt that I was wrapped up in

something which was his soul. We adored each other so sweetly. It is all

fading away; and there will be no more songs. Alas that I cannot live

on! You will think of me, my beloved!"

Her voice was growing fainter. The ominous waning, which was death, was

stealing away her breath. She folded her thumbs within her fingers--a

sign that her last moments were approaching. It seemed as though the

first uncertain words of an angel just created were blended with the

last failing accents of the dying girl.

She murmured,--

"You will think of me, won't you? It would be very sad to be dead, and

to be remembered by no one. I have been wayward at times; I beg pardon

of you all. I am sure that, if God had so willed it, we might yet have

been happy, my Gwynplaine; for we take up but very little room, and we

might have earned our bread together in another land. But God has willed

it otherwise. I cannot make out in the least why I am dying. I never

complained of being blind, so that I cannot have offended any one. I

should never have asked for anything, but always to be blind as I was,

by your side. Oh, how sad it is to have to part!"

938

The Man Who Laughs