Jeffray started suddenly, and half turned in his chair. Some one was stirring in the silent house; he heard a door open, swift footsteps upon the stairs. They came down and down into the half darkness of the hall like light descending into some ancient tower. Jeffray sprang up and went towards the door. A flood of light streamed down through one of the traceried windows of the hall. It fell upon the stairway and the polished woodwork of the floor, making the black timber seem like glistening water.
Down the stairs came Bess. Her black hair was gathered up in masses about her pale and wistful face. Her eyes, that looked like the eyes of one who had been long awake, were turned yearningly towards him.
“Bess.”
She came more slowly down the last few steps, the sunlight falling on her face, her lips apart, her eyes shining.
“I could not sleep.”
She stood before him, breathing deeply, and gazing in his face.
“I could not sleep, and I felt that I must come to you. You told me that you would watch till the morning.”
Jeffray’s face was in the shadow, but there was no mistaking the expression thereon.
“I have made up my mind, Bess,” he said.
She looked at him, gave a low cry, and stretched out her hands.