ling! Speak to me!"

I tried to speak, but could only smile and lean upon his arm in deep
content, and the figure bent over me and placed his cheek against my
lips, and laid a hand upon my heart, and seemed to cry for help; but
the cry was faint and indistinct, like that of a distant echo.

Then another form appeared--taller and more stalwart--and I felt myself
raised from the ground and carried to the top of the masonry, where
formless hands grasped me, and I sank--sank--with a feeling that I was
descending into the bowels of the earth--into oblivion again.

When I next awoke my mind was clearer, but I was still dazed. I half
opened my eyes and found myself in my own bed, with the housekeeper
seated at my side, and Dr. Trempest and the squire talking together in
quiet tones by the fire.

"How in thunder did they get her down?" the doctor was asking.

"Derwent heard the story as he got to the Hall and he fetched a short
ladder and climbed up as far as he could, and did some wonderful
gymnastics," replied the squire; "but Goodenough's sons came hurrying
up with longer ladders, and they lashed three together side by side,
and managed in that way. Derwent couldn't lift her, but Ben Goodenough
has the strength of an ox. But it was a tough job in a high wind on a
rickety floor."

"Well, it's a miracle, that's all I can say. I must go see Martha
Treffit's child now, but I'll look in to-morrow, early on."

"You are sure there is no cause for anxiety?" inquired the squire
anxiously; "she will come round all right?"

"As right as a bobbin," replied the doctor cheerfully. "There's only
the least bit of concussion. She was more frightened than hurt. I'll
send her up a bottle when I get back."

"You needn't trouble," I ejaculated; "it won't be mixed with faith this
time."

"She'll do!" chuckled the doctor, and he turned to me: "Go to sleep now
and behave yourself."

CHAPTER XXX

CALM AFTER STORM

Of course the Cynic had to explain, because he did not realise at first
how shadowy the whole occurrence had been to me. You see, I really was
not fully conscious at the time, and might easily have concluded that I
had dreamt it.

However, he is _my_ Cynic now, really, so I can talk quite freely to
him; and I tell him that after he called me "darling" and whilst he was
trying to make sure that I still breathed, he kissed me; but he says
that convinces him that I really was dreaming. But we have agreed not