As Bruce approached to take
his part in the sacred rite, he raised the hand which lay on the pall
to his lips. The ceremony began--was finished! As the bridal notes
resounded from the organ, and the royal pair rose from their knees,
Helen held her trembling hands over them. She gasped for breath, and
would have sunk without a word, had not Bothwell supported her shadowy
form upon his breast. She looked round on him with a grateful though
languid smile, and with a strong effort spoke:
"Be you blessed in all things as Wallace would have blessed you! From
his side I pour out my soul upon you, my sister--my being--and, with
its inward-breathed prayers to the Giver of all good for your eternal
happiness, I turn, in holy faith--to my long looked-for rest!"
Bruce and Isabella wept in each other's arms. Helen slid gently from
the boom of Bothwell prostrate on the coffin, and uttering, in a low
tone:
"I waited only for this! We have met--I unite thy noble heart to thee
again--I claim my brother--at our Father's hands--in mercy!--in
love--by his all-blessed Son!"
Her voice gradually faded away as she murmured these broken sentences,
which none but the close and attentive ear of Bothwell heard.
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