“You called me, Geoffrey,” she said, in a still, unnatural voice. “You called me, my beloved, and I—have—come.”
He rose aghast, trembling like an aspen with doubt and fear, trembling at the sight of the conquering glory of the woman whom he worshipped.
See! She drew on towards him, and she was asleep. Oh, what could he do?
Suddenly the draught of the great gale rushing through the house caught the opened door and crashed it to.
She awoke with a wild stare of terror.
“Oh, God, where am I?” she cried.
“Hush, for your life’s sake!” he answered, his faculties returning. “Hush! or you are lost.”
But there was no need to caution her to silence, for Beatrice’s senses failed her at the shock, and she sank swooning in his arms.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A DAWN OF RAIN
That crash of the closing door did not awake Beatrice only; it awoke both Elizabeth and Mr. Granger. Elizabeth sat up in bed straining her eyes through the gloom to see what had happened. They fell on Beatrice’s bed—surely—surely——