"It has been all in vain!"
Then Cuthbert leant over the corner of the table, and laid his hand on
hers; she seemed to him so young and lonely in her despair.
"My dear," he said, in his kind voice, "he would not think so Very
strange things have passed; but though I don't see them quite as he
does, he has made as noble a struggle as man ever made. And he _has_
conquered. He has mastered his weakness, and risen above it. It is a
thing never to be forgotten. Even if we lose him--as may be--as may
be--I cannot think--I cannot think, Florella, that he will lose himself.
And--I think you must not fail him now. The conditions of the fight
are very mysterious, and I could not say that our courage may make no
difference to him. His perceptions are keener than ours."
"I'll _not_ fail him," said Florella, with a light in her eyes. "I'll
fight it out too."
She went up to her room, and knelt down by the bed, and fought as hard a
fight with her own soul as ever Guy had waged with his.
If her thoughts could affect his, if her will could share in the
struggle, she must not will for him a lesser thing than he had willed
for himself. She would not pray only that Guy might live and not die;
but that, at all costs, his work might be carried through, his victory
completed. She must give him as he gave himself. She prayed the prayer
of faith with all her waking will; but when at last, exhausted, she fell
asleep, in her dreams she prayed that he might be given back to life.