A whitebeam at a little distance made a vivid conflagration of green amid the sombre boles of the pines.

Pinewoods rely on their undergrowth--bracken and whortleberry and occasional bushes--for their spring illuminations, and the whitebeam shone as bright in that wood as a lamp in the dark.
"I will bury her beneath the whitebeam," said Antony, and he carried her thither.
Soon the grave was dug amid the pushing fronds of the young ferns, and taking one long look at her, Antony laid her in the earth, and covered her up from sight.

Was it only fancy that as he turned away a faint music seemed to arise from the ground, forming into the word "Resurgam" as it died away?
"It is done," said Antony to Beatrice.

"But I could not break her, she looked so like you; so I buried her in the wood." Beatrice kissed him gratefully.

But her heart would have been more satisfied had Silencieux been broken..