“They were lost?” said Harry, looking at her.
“Yes, lost!” repeated Nell in a trembling voice. “They could not find their way out.”
“And there,” cried Harry, “they were imprisoned during eight long days! They were at the point of death, Nell; and, but for a kind and charitable being—an angel perhaps—sent by God to help them, who secretly brought them a little food; but for a mysterious guide, who afterwards led to them their deliverers, they never would have escaped from that living tomb!”
“And how do you know about that?” demanded the girl.
“Because those men were James Starr, my father, and myself, Nell!”
Nell looked up hastily, seized the young man’s hand, and gazed so fixedly into his eyes that his feelings were stirred to their depths. “You were there?” at last she uttered.
“I was indeed,” said Harry, after a pause, “and she to whom we owe our lives can have been none other than yourself, Nell!”
Nell hid her face in her hands without speaking. Harry had never seen her so much affected.
“Those who saved your life, Nell,” added he in a voice tremulous with emotion, “already owed theirs to you; do you think they will ever forget it?”