I hardly know why I should have had myself carried hither to tell you this, but I felt that I should die more easily, when I had confessed to you the liberty which my thoughts had taken with your image." As he continued speaking, Agatha had risen from her seat, and she was now kneeling at the foot of his bed, hiding her face between her hands, and the tears were streaming fast down her cheeks.
"Tell me, Mademoiselle, that you forgive me," said he, "tell me that you pardon my love, and above all, pardon me for speaking of it.

I have now but a few hours' breath, and in them I feel that I shall be but feeble; but tell me that you forgive me, and, though dying, I shall be happy." Agatha was too agitated to speak for a time, but she stretched her hand out to him, and he grasped it in his own as forcibly as his strength would allow.
"I know that you have pardoned my boldness," said he.

"May God bless you, and protect you in the dangers which are coming." "May He bless you also, Cathelineau--dear Cathelineau," said Agatha, still sobbing.

"May He bless you, and receive you into His glory, and seat you among His angels, and make you blessed and happy in His presence for ever and ever through eternity." And she drew herself nearer to him, and kissed the hand which she still held within her own, and bathed it with her tears, and pressed it again and again to her bosom.

"The memory of the words you have spoken to me shall be dearer to me than the love of man, shall be more precious to me than any homage a living prince could lay at my feet--to remember that Cathelineau has loved me--that the sainted Cathelineau has held my image in his heart, shall be love enough for Agatha Larochejaquelin." Cathelineau lingered on for the whole of that day, and the greater portion of the night.