"Hugh! Hugh!"
My heart throbbed with a great joy. Suddenly I stooped down and kissed her half-open lips passionately. Then I drew back and stood upright, for I saw that she was fast recovering consciousness.
First her breathing became deeper and less fitful. Then, with a little sigh, she opened her eyes and raised herself a little on her elbow.
She looked around in blank bewilderment. Then her eyes fell upon me, and the hot colour rushed into her cheeks.
"Mr. Arbuthnot! Why, where am I? How did I come here? and those men," she added, with a shudder, "those fearful men; was it all a dream?" She raised her hand to her forehead and looked at me appealingly. I hardened my voice as much as possible, and avoided meeting her eyes.
"I think I can explain to you what has happened," I said. "You must have got up in your sleep, and walked down through the copse. There were some men outside; I believe they were going to try and break in here, and one of them must have caught hold of you, for when I heard your scream and ran out, you were struggling in his grasp. I knocked him down, and the other one ran away. Then I carried you here, and here you are. Marian has just gone out to fetch some brandy."
Womanlike, her first thought was of her appearance, and she sat up and looked at herself eagerly. Evidently she had fallen asleep before preparing to retire, for the only change in her dress since the evening was that she had exchanged her dinner-gown for a long white dressing-robe, and let down her hair. Nevertheless, she blushed as she sat up, and looked at me, pushing back the waves of hair from her face.
"I remember falling asleep in the easy chair," she said, slowly, "and after that everything seems like a horrid dream. Those men's fearful faces, and you—oh, how fierce you looked! But it all seems very indistinct."
Then Marian came in, and she turned to her smiling.
"Miss Arbuthnot, I'm afraid you'll think this a very unceremonious morning call. You didn't know I was a sleep-walker, did you?"