God is the conqueror!" It seemed as if her upward glance had rested upon something more than mortal, her face assumed an expression of such unearthly meaning.

Sir Albert, too, knelt beside his ancient foe: he felt it impious to stand.
The maiden motioned to the countess, who raised and supported her in her arms and drew back the long hair which had partially covered the hollow cheeks.

Without a word, but with an eloquence that must have charmed the attendant Angels as much as it entranced the mortals who witnessed it, she placed her father's hand into Sir Albert's right hand, while Henry took the left.
"Albert de Hers," said Sir Sandrit, as the tears coursed down his brown cheeks, "I freely forgive you and yours; and nevermore shall my hand be raised against you." Henry repeated the words after his father.
"And I," said the Lord of Hers, "will forget the past: and I declare, here in the presence of dying innocence, that I am guiltless of your brother's blood!" The Countess of Montfort sobbed aloud, and her husband made no effort to conceal his tears.

Father Omehr, who had raised his hands to heaven in an ecstasy of gratitude, now exclaimed: "Let me speak for one who is not here: Gilbert de Hers has long since forgiven those who were once his father's foes." The object of her life was attained--the goal was reached--the victory was won.

There lay the victor, supported in the arms of her friend.