ck caught her as she fell. What had he said!--but, more than all, what
should he do now? He could not leave her alone and helpless,--yet how
could he justify another disconcerting intrusion? He touched her hands;
they were cold and lifeless; her eyes were half closed; her face as pale
and drooping as her lily. Well, he must brave the worst now, and carry
her to the house, even at the risk of meeting the others and terrifying
them as he had her. He caught her up,--he scarcely felt her weight
against his breast and shoulder,--and ran hurriedly down the slope to
the terrace, which was still deserted. If he had time to place her on
some bench beside the window within their reach, he might still fly
undiscovered! But as he panted up the steps of the terrace with his
burden, he saw that the French window was still open, but the light
seemed to have been extinguished. It would be safer for her if he could
place her INSIDE the house,--if he but dared to enter. He was desperate,
and he dared!

He found himself alone, in a long salon of rich but faded white and gold
hangings, lit at the further end by two tall candles on either side of
the high marble mantel, whose rays, however, scarcely reached the window
where he had entered. He laid his burden on a high-backed sofa. In
so doing, the rose fell from her belt. He picked it up, put it in
his breast, and turned to go. But he was arrested by a voice from the
terrace:--

"Renee!"

It was the voice of the elderly lady, who, with the Cure at her side,
had just appeared from the rear of the house, and from the further end
of the terrace was looking towards the garden in search of the young
girl. His escape in that way was cut off. To add to his dismay, the
young girl, perhaps roused by her mother's voice, was beginning to show
signs of recovering consciousness. Dick looked quickly around him.
There was an open door, opposite the window, leading to a hall which, no
doubt, offered some exit on the other side of the house. It was his only
remaining chance! He darted through it, closed it behind him, and
found himself at the end of a long hall or picture-gallery, strangely
illuminated through high windows, reaching nearly to the roof, by the
moon, which on that side of the building threw nearly level bars of
light and shadows across the floor and the quaint portraits on the wall.

But to his delight he could see at the other end a narrow, lance-shaped
open postern door showing the moon