The food lay close at hand, and with it one of the silver cups he had had in use above. With this he bore some of the cool refreshing liquid to the wounded woman, holding some to her lips and bathing her brow, till she uttered a sigh and returned to consciousness, her first act being to stretch out her hand and lay it upon Humphrey’s shoulder to draw him nearer to her.
“Don’t leave me!” she said feebly. “It is very dark!”
“But we are safe,” he whispered. “They are gone.”
“Yes,” she sighed; “I heard them. How long is it to day?”
“It cannot be long now,” he said, as he took her hand.
She sighed as she felt the unwonted tenderness and rested her head against his shoulder.
“No,” she said, softly, “it cannot be long now. It will come too soon!”
There was so much meaning in her voice that he felt a cold chill, as if the hand of death had passed between to separate these two so strangely brought together.
“Are you in pain!” he said.
“Pain! No. Happy—so happy!” she whispered. “For you do love me!”