By degrees, as she sat, Felice's mind--helped perhaps by the anticlimax
of learning that her lover was unharmed after all her fright about
him--grew wondrously strong in wise resolve. For the moment she was in
a mood, in the words of Mrs. Elizabeth Montagu, "to run mad with
discretion;" and was so persuaded that discretion lay in departure that
she wished to set about going that very minute. Jumping up from her
seat, she began to gather together some small personal knick-knacks
scattered about the room, to feel that preparations were really in
train.
While moving here and there she fancied that she heard a slight noise
out-of-doors, and stood still. Surely it was a tapping at the window.
A thought entered her mind, and burned her cheek. He had come to that
window before; yet was it possible that he should dare to do so now!
All the servants were in bed, and in the ordinary course of affairs she
would have retired also. Then she remembered that on stepping in by
the casement and closing it, she had not fastened the window-shutter,
so that a streak of light from the interior of the room might have
revealed her vigil to an observer on the lawn. How all things
conspired against her keeping faith with Grace!
The tapping recommenced, light as from the bill of a little bird; her
illegitimate hope overcame her vow; she went and pulled back the
shutter, determining, however, to shake her head at him and keep the
casement securely closed.
What she saw outside might have struck terror into a heart stouter than
a helpless woman's at midnight. In the centre of the lowest pane of
the window, close to the glass, was a human face, which she barely
recognized as the face of Fitzpiers. It was surrounded with the
darkness of the night without, corpse-like in its pallor, and covered
with blood. As disclosed in the square area of the pane it met her
frightened eyes like a replica of the Sudarium of St. Veronica.
He moved his lips, and looked at her imploringly. Her rapid mind
pieced together in an instant a possible concatenation of events which
might have led to this tragical issue. She unlatched the casement with
a terrified hand, and bending down to where he was crouching, pressed
her face to his with passionate solicitude. She assisted him into the
room without a word, to do which it was almost necessary to lift him
bodily. Quickly closing the window and fastening the shutters, she
bent over him breathlessly.
"Are you hurt much--much?" she cried, faintly. "Oh, oh, how is this!"