sound of his step in the darkness; her heart stood still; her blood was changed to ice, frozen with the deadliness of the most deadly fear on earth; she could only look at him with wide-opened, strained, blind eyes.
For the first time he smiled:—
"Take comfort," he said, softly. "He has fallen asleep, he is less exhausted, they say that he may live. How cold you are!—this night will kill you!"
She dropped down upon her knees on the stone pavement, and all her bowed frame was shakened by convulsive weeping.
He drew aside in reverence and left her alone in the light of the moon.
When midnight came hope was certain.
The sleep still lasted; the fever had abated, the cold chills had not returned.
She called her old friend to her out into the terrace.
"I will go now. Send to me at daybreak and keep my secret."
"May I tell him nothing?"
"Tell him to come to me—when he is able."
