No matter what the world might say, she had married him in good faith. He was hers; he belonged to her before Heaven and all the world.
She wrung her hands wildly.
"The marriage must not take place! I must save the man I love from himself and the anger of the watching angels!" she cried.
She prayed wildly that she might not be too late.
Her hat and cloak were hanging on a peg near the door. She took them down, and her hands trembled so that she could hardly put them on. Her knees trembled, and she felt faint. But she summoned all her strength, and reached the door and turned the knob. But it was locked on the outside.
Her weak hands were powerless to force the door. She crept back to the window and threw open the sash. All that she could behold was a dense mass of trees.
A sturdy oak grew close to the window, its great branches spread out invitingly before her. It was a desperate chance to take in order to reach the ground, which was fully thirty feet below.
Would her strength give way? Dare she take the terrible risk?
"I must! I must!" she cried. "Heaven will protect me!"
Without stopping to debate the matter further, lest she should lose courage, the poor girl climbed with difficulty out on the broad sill and grasped one of the boughs.