"It is my angel!" she murmured faintly--"My little white angel who came to me in the darkness! And this is Heaven!"
Swiftly and silently Morgana went to her side, and taking her outstretched arms put them round her own neck.
"Manella!" she said, tenderly--"Dear, beautiful Manella! Do you know me?"
The great loving eyes rested on her with glowing warmth and pleasure.
"Indeed I know you!" and Manella's voice, weak as that of a sick child, sounded ever so far away--"The little white lady of my dreams! Oh, I have wanted you!--wanted you so much! Why did you not come back sooner?"
Afraid to trouble her brain by the sudden shock of too rapidly recurring memories, Morgana made no reply, but merely soothed her with tender caresses, when all at once she made a violent struggle to rise from the bed.
"I must go!" she cried--"He is calling me! I must follow him--yes, even if he kills me for it--he is in danger!"
Morgana held her close and firmly.
"Hush, hush, dear!" she murmured--"Be quite still! He is safe--believe me! He is near you--in the next room!--out of all danger."
"Oh, no, it is not possible!" and the girl's eyes grew wild with terror--"He cannot be safe!--he is destroying himself! I have followed him every step of the way--I have watched him,--oh!--so long!--and he came out of the hut this morning--I was hidden among the trees--he could not see me--" she broke off, and a violent trembling shook her whole body. Morgana tried to calm her into silence, but she went on rambling incoherently. "There was something he carried as though it was precious to him--something that glittered like gold,--and he went away quickly--quickly to the canyon,--I followed him like a dog, crawling through the brushwood--I followed him across the deep water--to the cave where it was all dark--black as midnight!" She paused--then suddenly flung her arms round Morgana crying--"Oh, hold me!--hold me!--I am in this darkness trying to find him!--there!--there!--he turns and sees me by the light of a lamp he carries; he knows I have followed him, and he is angry! Oh, dear God, he is angry--he raises his arm to strike me!" She uttered a smothered shriek, and clung to Morgana in a kind of frenzy. "No mercy, no pity! That thing that glitters in his hand--it frightens me--what is it? I kneel to him on the cold stones--I pray him to forgive me--to come with me--but his arm is still raised to strike--he does not care--!"