Scarcely had Madeline begun to sing ere an invisible veil lifted from the brain of the wounded man by her side. He came forth from the blank world of darkness, and a voice fell upon his ears which made him lie very still. It was so sweet and familiar. He had heard it before, and it led him into gardens of the most beautiful and fragrant flowers. And in the centre—the fairest flower of all—stood Madeline as of old.
Presently the singing ceased, and Grey opened his eyes, and fixed them full upon the bright scene before him.
Madeline turning, saw him, noted the look of intelligence upon his face, and her heart bounded with joy. Grey tried to speak, but words would not come. He gave a weary smile, and stretched out his hand. Madeline seized it, and pressed it gently.
"Hush," she whispered. "Don't try to talk. You are weak, so go to sleep now."
Again he smiled, and gave her such a look of love and gratitude that she trembled with emotion, while a deep blush suffused her cheeks. She longed for Norman to speak, to hear the truth from his own lips. She read it in his eyes, however, and was happy. But she did not wish to excite him in his present condition, and knew that a deep refreshing sleep would be the best thing for him.
"My head!" Grey faintly murmured, as he lifted his hand to the wound.
"Yes, I know," she replied. "Go to sleep, and it will feel better."
With a deep sigh of extreme weariness he closed his eyes in a slumber which Madeline knew was natural and refreshing.
"Thank God! Oh, thank God!" she breathed to herself. "The veil is lifted. He knew me, and did not turn away from me in disgust."
She sat watching him for a few minutes, and then some subtle influence caused her to turn her face toward the door. It was partly open, for the morning was mild, and the room warm. And as she looked out upon the world beyond in a half-abstracted manner, she became aware that someone was approaching the house. Then she started, placed Donnie upon the floor, rose to her feet, and took a few steps forward. Her face, which but a few moments before had flushed with joy, was now as white as death. The person coming toward her was the Indian woman, Nadu. She recognised her in an instant, and her first impulse was to close and securely fasten the door. But something seemed to hold her spellbound. She was unable to move and stood perfectly still, fascinated by that slowly advancing figure.