lls?
Marriage-bells. Do not let her hear them; for there is a cruel wind that
whispers the bells, and the bells ring out what it whispers, louder and
louder,

"'Stain on lily Shame on lily,
Wither lily.'

"If she hears what the wind whispers to the bells, she will creep away
into the dark, and then she, too, will turn to Nightshade."

"Lilian, look up, awake! You have been in a long, long dream: it is
passing away. Lilian, my beloved, my blessed Lilian!"

Never till then had I heard from her even so vague an allusion to the
fatal calumny and its dreadful effect, and while her words now pierced
my heart, it beat, amongst its pangs, with a thrilling hope.

But, alas! the idea that had gleamed upon her had vanished already. She
murmured something about Circles of Fire, and a Veiled Woman in black
garments; became restless, agitated, and unconscious of our presence,
and finally sank into a heavy sleep.

That night (my room was next to hers with the intervening door open)
I heard her cry out. I hastened to her side. She was still asleep, but
there was an anxious labouring expression on her young face, and yet
not an expression wholly of pain--for her lips were parted with a
smile,--that glad yet troubled smile with which one who has been
revolving some subject of perplexity or fear greets a sudden thought
that seems to solve the riddle, or prompt the escape from danger; and
as I softly took her hand she returned my gentle pressure, and inclining
towards me, said, still in sleep,--

"Let us go."

"Whither?" I answered, under my breath, so as not to awake her; "is it
to see the child of whom I read, and the land that is blooming out of
the earth's childhood?"

"Out of the dark into the light; where the leaves do not change; where
the night is our day, and the winter our summer. Let us go! let us go!"

"We will go. Dream on undisturbed, my bride. Oh, that the dream could
tell you that my love has not changed in our sorrow, holier and deeper
than on the day in which our vows were exchanged! In you still all my
hopes fold their wings; where you are, there still I myself have my
dreamland!"

The sweet face grew bright as I spoke; all trouble left the smile;
softly she drew her hand from my clasp, and rested it for a moment on my
bended head, as if in blessing.

I rose; stole back to my own room, closing the door, lest the sob I
could not stifle should mar her sleep.

CHAPTER LXVI.

I unfolded my new pr