Her mandate seemed to him almost cruel,—­it was like driving him into a howling wilderness, when with one touch, one kiss, she might transport him into Paradise!  If she were in the world, . . if she were always with him.. ah! then how different, how easy life would be!  Again he thought of those strange entrancing words of hers..  “My other soul, . . my king.. my immortality’s completion!”—­ and a sudden wild idea took swift possession of his brain.

“Edris!” he cried..  “If I may not yet come to thee, then come thou to me! ...  Dwell thou with me! ...  O by the force of my love, which God knoweth, let me draw thee, thou fair Light, into my heart’s gloom!  Hear me while I swear my faith to thee as at some holy shrine! ...  As I live, with all my soul I do accept thy Master Christ, as mine utmost good, and His Cross as my proudest glory! ... but yet, bethink thee, Edris, bethink thee of this world,—­its wilful sin, its scorn of God, and all the evil that like a spreading thunder-cloud darkens it day by day!  Oh, wilt thou leave me desolate and alone? ...  Fight as I will, I shall often sink under blows, . . conquer as I may, I shall suffer the solitude of conquest, unless thou art with me!  Oh, speak!—­is there no deeper divine intention in the marvellous destiny that has brought us together?—­thou, pure Spirit, and I, weak Mortal?  Has love, the primal mover of all things, no hold upon thee? ...  If I am, as thou sayest, thy Beloved, loved by thee so long, even while forgetful of and unworthy of thy love, can I not now,—­now when I am all thine,—­persuade thee to compassionate the rest of my brief life on earth? ...  Thou art in woman’s shape here on this Field of Ardath,—­and yet thou art not woman!  Oh, could my love constrain thee in God’s Name, to wear the mask of mortal body for my sake, would not our union even now make the Sorrowful Star seem fair? ...  Love, love, love!  Come to mine aid, and teach me how to shut the wings of this sweet bird of paradise in mine own breast! ...  God!  Spare her to me for one of Thy sweet moments which are our mortal years! ...  Christ, who became a mere child for pity of us, let me learn from Thee the mystic spell that makes Thine angel mine!”

Carried away by his own forceful emotion he hardly knew what he said, . . but an unspeakable, dizzy joy flooded his soul, as he caught the look she gave him! ... a wild, sweet, amazed, half-tender, half-agonized, wholly human look, suggestive of the most marvellous possibilities!  One effort and she released her hand from his, and moved a little apart, her eyes kindling with celestial sympathy in which there was the very faintest touch of self-surrender.  Self-surrender? ... what! from an Angel to a mortal? ...  Ah no! ... it could not be,—­yet he felt filled all at once with a terrible sense of power that at the same time was mingled with the deepest humility and fear.