He led her outside and pointed. The storm, coming with the full tide, had wrought a strange change in the face of the land. Up to the very top of the dykes was a turbulent waste of waters. The tower had been left as though upon an island. Nowhere in sight was any land to be seen.
"You see," Deane said to the girl, "it would not be safe to try and get to the village. The water is up to within a few inches of the dyke, and in the half darkness one might easily make a false step. From here one cannot quite see, but I should imagine that the flood is over the village street."
She turned back toward the little gray stone building. "If you will let me sleep in your sitting-room, then," she said timidly. "I will not turn you out of your room."
He laughed. "My dear young lady," he said, "if anyone in the world ever needed sleep to-night, it is you. I am going to send you up to lie down at once. You must promise me, promise faithfully, that you will remember what I have said, that you will say this to yourself: 'The reprieve will come!' It is the truth, mind. Say that to yourself and sleep."
Then he touched the bell and spoke to his servant. "Grant, please make my room as habitable as possible for this young lady. We are on an island, and no one will be able to leave to-night. Put out anything of mine you think may be useful to her."
She turned towards him impulsively. "You are very good to me," she said.
"My dear Miss Rowan, I only wish that it were in my power—"
Then he stopped short. After all, it was not wise to tell her too much. He raised her fingers to his lips, and avoided, with a sudden twinge of self-reproach, the soft invitation of her timidly raised eyes.
"You must sleep well," he said, as he pointed the way up the stairs. "Remember, you can take what I have told you as a promise."