“Regan, awake. We are not dead!”
I shrieked the words into a gloom so incomprehensible that I had believed it was the grave.
Regan answered in a riddle, but I thought he had not collected his senses:
“It is done! Triumph! Fate has been merciful!” He added instantly: “Don’t move! There are chasms and waters! Don’t you hear the sea surging?”
He did not think he was dead! He did not dream of a river! The meaning of his words startled me.
“Where is Isabella?” he asked.
“Pray God she may be dead!” I answered, as I realized what had probably happened.
“She is here, alive but senseless.”
The voice was Father Renaudin’s.
We found her. After a time she revived.