"Home at last!" cried Mellen, as a warm glow of lights shone out from his dwelling. "Ride on, my man; you shall sleep here to-night, and return in the morning."
In his exultation Mellen dashed forward, urging his horse across the open space till he was considerably in advance of his attendant. The moon shivered out again for an instant, and Mr. Mellen saw a woman shrouded in a long cloak rushing towards the house. Some instinct, rather than any real recognition of her person, made him cry out, as he leaped from the horse and left him free:
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"
The figure paused. There was a faint cry; at the same instant Mellen heard a violent rustle in the shrubbery, with a sudden downpour of raindrops, scarcely noticed, as he hurried towards the lady, but well remembered afterwards. She was standing upright and still, as if that unexpected voice had changed her to stone; her hair had broken loose and was streaming wildly over her shoulders; one hand was lifted above her eyes, as she strained her sight through the gloom.
"Elizabeth!" he called again.
"Who is it?" she cried, in a suppressed voice, that had all the sharpness of an agonised shriek. "Who calls to me?"
He reached her side as she spoke.
"Don't you know me?" he exclaimed. "My wife! my wife! I have come back at last!"
There was one wild look—one heavy breath—he heard a low exclamation:
"My God! oh, my God!"