I had gone out with them: alone I said to him my last
farewell. But they did not know my secret. They did not guess that I had
ascertained by my art that life was yet in him, that I had poured
between his lips subtle drops which would maintain animation for many
days and nights, during which consciousness might be restored; nor did
they imagine that when I kneeled before him I had stopped the leak by
which the water was to flow into the doomed boat. Algar was now the
deceived; it was a living man, not a corpse, who started on that voyage.
Haco lives still, though where my art cannot tell. I thought that Marie
Torode knew, and sought her on her death-bed to question her, but either
she could not or she would not tell." Hilda's mind was in such confusion
that she could not speak. The old woman continued. "Algar lived on--yes,
lived that he might suffer all the evils with which my curse loaded him,
and died that he might be hurled into the abyss where traitors and
cravens writhe and groan. Enough of him!
"When I returned to my tower, a figure was crouching before the hearth:
it was Tita, and you were in her arms.
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