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He gazed at her in speechless
suspense,--and saw as in a vision the pure radiance of her face and
star-like eyes shining more and more closely upon him. Then came a
touch,--soft and sweet as a roseleaf pressed against his lips,--and for
one mad moment he remembered nothing,--he was caught up like Homer's
Paris in a cloud of gold, and knew not which was earth or heaven.
"You love me, Thelma?" he murmured in a sort of wondering rapture. "I
cannot believe it, sweet! Tell me--you love me?"
She looked up. A new, unspeakable glory flushed her face, and her eyes
glowed with the mute eloquence of awakening passion.
"Love you?" she said in a voice so low and sweet that it might have been
the whisper of a passing fairy. "Ah, yes! more than my life!"


CHAPTER XIV.
"Sweet hands, sweet hair, sweet cheeks, sweet eyes, sweet mouth;
Each singly wooed and won!"
DANTE ROSETTI.

"Hallo, ho!" shouted Gueldmar vociferously, peering back into the shadows
of the cavern from whence the figures of his daughter and Errington were
seen presently emerging.


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