A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;
                Not a hope in the world remained:
        The swarming, howling wretches below
                Gained and gained and gained.

        Skene looked at his pale young wife:--
                "Is the time come?"--"The time is come!"--
        Young, strong, and so full of life:
                The agony struck them dumb.

        Close his arm about her now,
                Close her cheek to his,
        Close the pistol to her brow--
                God forgive them this!

        "Will it hurt much?"--"No, mine own:
                I wish I could bear the pang for both."
        "I wish I could bear the pang alone:
                Courage, dear, I am not loth."

        Kiss and kiss: "It is not pain
                Thus to kiss and die.
        One kiss more."--"And yet one again."--
                "Good by."--"Good by."

        Note.--I retain this little poem, not as historically accurate,
but as written and published before I heard the supposed
facts of its first verse contradicted.