"There it is again—good heavens—what can it be?" she exclaimed half aloud, and rising from her seat, as Audley tapped very audibly on the window panes for a second time.
"The deuce!" thought he, "I hope she won't scream—for that would spoil all."
With a candle in her hand, she paused midway between the window and her dressing-table, when he said distinctly,—
"It is I, dearest Sybil—Audley Trevelyan—open the window, and speak with me—but for a moment."
"Audley—you—you—here at this hour!" replied Sybil, with intense astonishment, bordering on fear.
She replaced the candle on the table, clasped her hands, and shrunk back irresolutely, for though she fully recognised the voice that thrilled her heart's core, it was somewhat bewildering to hear it there and at such a time; but summoning courage she drew up the blind, and beheld Audley's whole figure on the upper step, which formed the sill of her window.
"Oh, Audley—Audley—what has happened—what brings you here again?" she asked imploringly.
"The love I bear you," said he, humbly.
"You cannot think of entering here!"
"Far from it, dearest Sybil—I have no such thought; but pardon me for alarming you—pardon me for intruding on you thus."