"There, there!" said the landlady soothingly; "I told you she had only fainted. Do you feel better, my dear?"
"Much better, thank you," replied Lily, vaguely. But looking down upon the kneeling form of Mr. Musgrave, remembrance of what had passed came to her; and she clung to him in a passion of tears, and besought him again and again not to desert her. At a sign from him the landlady quitted the room, saying,
"You will find me down-stairs if you want me."
"You are crying, Mr. Musgrave," said Lily, when they were alone. "I feel your tears on my hand."
"They are tears of joy and pain, my dear," he answered, rising from his knees. "Tell me now how you came here. When I saw you looking out of the window, I placed my finger on my lips, warning you to silence. It is as I suspected, is it not? Mr. Sheldrake brought you here?"
Briefly she told him of the means employed by Mr. Sheldrake to induce her to accompany him, and of what had passed between them on the road and at the inn. He listened attentively, and with varying shades of emotion; and when she ceased speaking, he told her to be comforted, that he would protect her, and that it was not Mr. Sheldrake she or Alfred had to fear.
"There is cause for fear, my dear," he said, "but not from him. When I return, I will tell you more—"
"You are not going?" she interrupted entreatingly, clinging to him more closely.
"I must; you shall know my errand when I come back, and you will be satisfied. Then I will not leave you again. I shall be absent for half an hour, my dear; and while I am away the landlady will sit with you."
"But if Mr. Sheldrake returns—"