"Will you sleep the rest of the night within sound of my voice?" she asked, with a little tremble in her whisper. "The wilderness tonight is like that storm. Its greatness terrifies me. Do you think that all is well, monsieur?"
I was glad that she could not see my face. "Yes, I think that all is very well," I answered. "Blessedly well. Sleep, now, madame. I shall stay here, and your whisper would wake me. Is there terror in the wilderness now?"
Again she shook her head. "No," she whispered.
I lay beside her couch and cushioned my head in my arm. I had answered her truly. All was very well with me, for at last I saw clearly; I knew myself. The dream, the night, and something that I could not name, had stripped me naked to my own understanding. I felt as if, man that I had thought myself, I had played with toys until this moment, and that now, for the first time, I was conscious of my full power for joy or suffering. I looked up through the star spaces and was grateful for knowledge, for knowledge even if it brought pain.
I had not lain this way long when I heard her stir.
"Monsieur," came her whisper.
I lifted myself to my knees. "Yes, madame."
"You were not asleep?"
"No, madame."
"Monsieur, I was loath to disturb you, but I cannot sleep. Tell me. Suppose that Lord Starling should find us. Will he have power to take me?"