"And you, George," said the lady, glancing tenderly toward the young man—"you are my saviour from a horrible death! Another moment, and it would have been too late—they were going to murder me! Oh! how can I sufficiently express my gratitude."
She tendered him her hand, which he pressed rapturously to his lips;—and she did not withdraw it.
"I heard a noise of a shutter closing violently, and of a pane of glass breaking," said Montague: "I started from my bed and listened. In a few moments afterwards I heard footsteps on the stairs——"
"Those were mine, as I descended," interrupted Walter; "for I was alarmed by the same disturbance."
"And, then, while I was hastily slipping on my clothes," added Montague, "I heard a scream. Not another moment did I wait; but——"
"You came in time, I repeat, to save my life. Never—never shall I sufficiently repay you."
Again did Montague press the fair hand of that enchanting woman to his lips; and then, as he leant over her, their eyes met, and they exchanged glances of love—hers pure and chaste, his ardent and brimful of desire. He was maddened—he was emboldened by those innocent tokens of affection upon her part; and, throwing his arms around her, he imprinted hot and burning kisses upon her lips.
With difficulty did she disengage herself from his embrace; and she cast upon him a look of reproach mingled with melancholy.
"Pardon me, dearest one," he exclaimed, seizing her hand once more and pressing it to his lips; "is it a crime to love you so tenderly—so well?"
"No, George—no: you are my saviour—you soon will be my husband—you need not ask for my forgiveness. But now leave me—retire to your own room as noiselessly as you can; and to-morrow—to-morrow," she added with a blush, "it is not necessary that Louisa should know that you were here."