"'Sleeping, I dream, love—I dream, love, of thee;
O'er the bright waves, love, floating with thee;
Light in thy soft hair played the soft wind,
Fondly thy white arms around me were twined;
And as thy song, love, swelled o'er the sea,
Fondly thy blue eyes beamed, love, on me.'"
She hesitated a moment, and looked up in his face, as though really intending the words for him. He was bending over her, pale and panting—his blue eyes blazing with a light that brought the crimson blood in a rosy tide to her very temples. She stopped abruptly.
"Go on!" he said, in a low voice.
She hesitated, glanced at Archie, and seeing the storm-cloud on his brow, the demon of mischief once more conquered her better nature, and she resumed:
"'Soon o'er the bright waves howled forth the gale,
Fiercely the lightning flashed on our sail,
And as our frail bark drove through the sea,
Thine eyes, like loadstones, beamed, love, on me.
Oh, heart, awaken!—wrecked on lone shore,
Thou art forsaken!—dream, heart, no more.'"
Ere the last words were uttered, Archie had seized his hat and rushed from the house; and Danvers, forgetting everything save the entrancing creature at his feet, clasped her suddenly in his arms, and passionately exclaimed:
"Oh, Gipsy! my love! my life, my beautiful mountain sprite!—can you, will you love me?"
With a wild, sharp cry of terror and anger, she broke from his arms, and sprang back, with flashing eyes.
"Back, sir, back!—I command you! How dare you attempt such a liberty with me?"
How beautiful she looked in her wrath, with her blazing eyes, and crimson cheeks, and straight little form drawn up to its full height, in surprise and indignation.