She drew herself up on her knees, and strained her united fingers, with the palms outward, towards that glittering star, and moaned, 'My Valentine! My George, my George!'
Suddenly, as if in answer to that wail from her wounded heart, there came a crash, and then loud, pealing, agonising, a cry from below out of the depths, and yet in the air about—'Glory! Glory! Glory!'
CHAPTER XX.
IN PROFUNDUM.
The cry roused Mehalah, as a step into cold water is a shock bringing a somnambulist instantly to full consciousness.
In a minute she was outside the house, looking for the person whose appeal had struck her ear. She saw the wooden shutter that had closed the window of the madman's den broken, hanging by one hinge. Two bleached, ghostly hands were stretched through the bars, clutching and opening.
At his door, above the steps, stood Elijah.
'Hah! Glory!' he said, 'has the crazed fool's shout brought you down?'
She was stepping towards the window. Rebow ran down before her.
'Go in!' he shouted to his brother. 'Curse you, you fool! breaking the shutter and yelling out, scaring the whole house.' He had a whip, a great carter's whip in his hand, and he smacked it. The hands disappeared instantly.