There was a long pause of awful silence, in which he stood with head uplifted and his eyes covered with his hands, while she clung to him, her face still between its thick length of waven tresses, and gazed with dilated eyes into his half-hid features.
“My beloved! My own beloved, what is this? Was it a dream? Be calm—be strong. I am with you. I hold you in my arms. No evil thing can come to you when I am near. Love clasps you, my dear and gentle lover, and nothing can harm you.”
At the full, tender silver of her voice, the shadows and the terrors rushed from his soul. His hands fell from his still and pallid features, and putting his arms around her, he gazed into her face.
“Hush!” he murmured. “A moment! I will tell you in a moment.”
They stood in silence gazing at each other.
Presently his arms fell from her, and swiftly gliding away she turned up the light, which at once filled the room with mellow radiance. Hurriedly, he bound on his shoes, put his pistol in his breast, and sat on the couch beside her.
“Muriel,” said he, “you were right; I have had dreams. Listen.”
In a low, clear voice, he told her all. The narration occupied several minutes, and during that time she listened with a still face and lips parted. He ceased at length, and there was a long pause.
“What does this mean?” she murmured. “Do you take these dreams as augury?”