"Mamma—my poor mamma shall thank you, sir—I cannot speak my own thoughts—they are too terrible and my gratitude is too deep for words."
"From my soul, I thank Heaven, that I came in time to save you! A little longer here, my dearest girl, and you must have perished of cold!" said he as he perceived with genuine anxiety how pale she was and how the whole of her delicate frame shivered, but his words or manner seemed to recall her energies, for she tried to smile and said,
"I shall have a strange story to write of to Denzil, and tell my papa when he returns."
"Have ee found her zur—is the young lady saafe?" cried a voice there was no mistaking, down the shaft.
"Safe and sound, Treherne," replied Trevelyan, whose voice made strange echoes in the cavernous recesses of the place; "we shall come up together, so take care my friends, for there will be a heavier strain on the rope—a double weight now. Permit me to lead you, Miss Devereaux—or, may I not call you Sybil?" he added, as his voice trembled a little.
"You may call me what you please," replied Sybil with something of her usual frankness, "I owe my life to you," she added feebly, while clinging to his arm.
"To me, after Rajah who guided us here, no doubt on hearing you cry for aid—so with the permission you accord, I shall call you Sybil—yes dearest Sybil, permit me to blindfold you."
"Why?"
"You may become giddy—terrified."
"I submit myself to you," she answered, and he tied his handkerchief over her eyes, and while doing so, to resist touching her lovely little lips with his own, was impossible.