Mark me, Ivan! When the first dread chill of that shadow makes itself felt, come to me--I shall yet be living.

Come; for then no wealth can aid you--at that dark hour no boon companions can comfort.

Come; and by our friendship so lately sworn--by Zara's pure soul--by God's existence, I will not die till I have changed that darkness over you into light eternal!--Fare you well!" He caught the Prince's hand, and wrung it hard; then, without further word, look, or gesture, turned and disappeared again within the chapel.
His words had evidently made a deep impression on the young nobleman, who gazed after his retreating figure with a certain awe not unmingled with fear.
I held out my hand in silent farewell.

Ivan took it gently, and kissed it with graceful courtesy.
"Casimir told me that your intercession saved my life, mademoiselle," he said.

"Accept my poor thanks.