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CHAPTER X.
"Let me die,
At least, with an unshackled eye."
Byron.
The fresh air of the open windows, as they came to the inhabited part of the house, revived Francesca, though, when the soldier, who had found his way to the kitchen, gave her to the care of the astonished Aylmer himself, she was still too dizzy and too confused to he conscious of her situation. Lawrence gave her a glass of water, and, restored in some degree, she silently accepted his aid to reach their usual room. On their entrance, Aylmer was greeted by a new surprise—his daughter Lucy, whom he very naturally supposed was quietly in her bed, lay on the window-seat, the casement open, and herself asleep; but the traces of tears were upon her cheek, and her long fair hair loose, and yet saturated with the dews of the night.
