“Ay,” broke in the lad David, who was following, “and I felt a cold wind as though some one stirred the air.”
Grey Dick also opened his lips to speak, then changed his mind and was silent, but Sir Andrew said impatiently:
“I saw no one, therefore there was no one to see. Enter!” and he opened the door.
Now they found themselves in a lighted room, beyond which lay another room.
“Bide you here, Richard, with your companion,” said Sir Andrew. “Hugh, follow me, and let us learn whether I have trusted to God in vain.”
Then very gently he opened the door, and they passed in together, closing it behind them.
This is what Hugh saw. At the far end of the room was a bed, near to which stood a lamp that showed, sitting up in the bed, a beautiful young woman, whose dark hair fell all about her. Her face was flushed but not wasted or made dreadful by the sickness, as happened to so many. There she sat staring before her with her large dark eyes and a smile upon her sweet lips, like one that muses on happy things.
“See,” whispered Sir Andrew, “she is awakened from her swoon. I think I did not trust in vain, my son.”
She caught the tones of his voice and spoke.
“Is that you, Father?” she asked dreamily. “Draw near, for I have such a strange story to tell you.”