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Updated: June 7, 2025
Amine was the first to speak: removing her arms, which had been wound round her husband, she first put his hand to her heart, as if to compress its painful throbbings, and then observed "Surely that was no earthly messenger, Philip! Did you not feel chilled to death when he sat by you? I did, as he came in."
Amine poured out the powder into one of the silver mugs on the table, and then proceeded to mix it up with the wine. Her suspicions had, for the time been removed by the kind tone of her father's voice. To do him justice as a medical practitioner, he appeared always to be most careful of his patients.
Many and many were the consultations with Father Seysen, many were the exhortations of both the good old men to Amine, who, at times, would listen without reply, and at others, argue boldly against them. It appeared to them, that she rejected their religion with an obstinacy as unpardonable as it was incomprehensible.
"It is, I grant; but still I prefer even that to a dungeon," replied Krantz, "and so, good night." For three weeks they remained in the fort, every day becoming more intimate with the commandant, who often communicated with Krantz, when Philip was not present, turning the conversation upon his love for Amine and entering into a minute detail of all that had passed.
"Philip," said Amine, taking his hand, and looking earnestly in his face, "last night you dreamed." "I did indeed, Amine," replied Philip, gravely. "Tell me your dream, for it will be for me to expound it." "I fear it needs but little exposition, Amine. All I would know is, from what intelligence the dream has been received?" "Tell me your dream," replied Amine, calmly.
In the centre, on a raised dais, was a long table covered with a cloth of alternate blue and fawn-coloured stripes; and at the end opposite to where Amine was brought in was raised an enormous crucifix, with a carved image of our Saviour. The jailor pointed to a small bench, and intimated to Amine that she was to sit down. After a scrutiny of some moments, the Secretary spoke:
"God forgive him! as I do," replied Philip, lifting up the body, and carrying it up the stairs to the room which had been occupied by Mynheer Poots. "Let it at least be supposed that he died in his bed, and that his death was natural," said Amine. "My pride cannot bear that this should be known, or that I should be pointed at as the daughter of a murderer! O Philip!"
"Are you aware why you are brought here?" "How should I be?" replied Amine, evasively; "tell me what I am accused of." "You must know whether you have done wrong or not. You had better confess all your conscience accuses you of." "My conscience does not accuse me of doing wrong." "Then you will confess nothing?" "By your own showing, I have nothing to confess."
Welcome, even in death, Philip welcome!" and Amine waved her hand mournfully, inviting Philip to enter as she retired from the window. "My God! she thinks me dead," thought Philip, and, hardly knowing how to act, he entered in at the window, and found her sitting on the sofa.
As Amine's eyes beamed upon Philip's, he could not for the moment subdue the idea rising in his mind, that she was not like other mortals, and he calmly observed, "Am I sure, Amine, that I am wedded to one mortal as myself?" "Yes! yes! Philip, compose yourself, I am but mortal; would to Heaven I were not.
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