and pity for the poor despised fool, who to ensure her happiness has sacrificed his life.
Growing bold in the dread presence of the Reaper--
"Louisa," he gasps, his voice still fainter than before, "I am dying; there are none to witness, and none will ever know--kiss me!"
Weeping softly, the girl stoops until her loose flowing hair falls about his head and neck, and her lips, so rich with the blood of life and youth, touch his, upon which the chill of death is settling.
A quiver runs through his frame, his chest heaves with a long last sigh--then all is still, but for the gentle sobbing of the girl whose tears are falling fast upon the upturned face, which smiles upon her in death.
This story appears in The Life and Work of Rafael Sabatini web site. http://www.rafaelsabatini.com
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