He took her into his arms. There was no light. He could not see her
eyes or lips. Her slight breathing seemed to indicate a fainting fit,
but there was no water, nor was it possible to adopt any of the
ordinary expedients suited to such a seizure. He could only wait in a
dreadful silence--wait, clasping her to his breast--and dumbly wonder
what other loss he could suffer ere the final release came.

At last she sighed deeply. A strong tremor of returning life stirred
her frame.

"Thank God!" he murmured, and bowed his head. Were the sun shining he
could not see her now, for his eyes were blurred.

"Robert!" she whispered.

"Yes, darling."

"Are you safe?"

"Safe! my loved one! Think of yourself! What has happened to you?"

"I fainted--I think. I have no hurt. I missed you! Something told me
you had gone. I went to help you, or die with you. And then that noise!
And the light! What did you do?"

He silenced her questioning with a passionate kiss. He carried her to a
little nook and fumbled among the stores until he found a bottle of
brandy. She drank some. Under its revivifying influence she was soon
able to listen to the explanation he offered--after securing the
ladder.