"Now Thelma, child! If thou art a queen, give orders to these lads to be moving! 'Tis a damp place to hold a court in, and thy throne must needs be a cold one. Let us out to the blessed sunshine again--maybe we can climb one of yon wild rocks and get a view worth seeing."
"All right, sir!" said Lorimer, chivalrously resolving that now Errington should have a chance. "Come on, Mac! Allons, marchons,--Pierre! Mr. Güldmar exacts our obedience! Phil, you take care of the queen!"
And skillfully pushing on Duprèz and Macfarlane before him, he followed Güldmar, who preceded them all,--thus leaving his friend in a momentary comparative solitude with Thelma. The girl was a little startled as she saw them thus taking their departure, and sprang up from her stalactite throne in haste. Sir Philip had laid aside his torch in order to assist her with both hands to descend the sloping rocks; but her embarrassment at being left almost alone with him made her nervous and uncertain of foot,--she was hurried and agitated and anxious to overtake the others, and in trying to walk quickly she slipped and nearly fell. In one second she was caught in his arms and clasped passionately to his heart.
"Thelma! Thelma!" he whispered, "I love you, my darling--I love you!"
She trembled in his strong embrace, and strove to release herself, but he pressed her more closely to him, scarcely knowing that he did so, but feeling that he held the world, life, time, happiness, and salvation in this one fair creature. His brain was in a wild whirl--the glitter of the stalactite cave turned to a gyrating wheel of jewel-work, there was nothing any more--no universe, no existence--nothing but love, love, love, beating strong hammer-strokes through every fibre of his frame. He glanced up, and saw that the slowly retreating forms of his friends had nearly reached the outer opening of the cavern. Once there, they would look back and-"Quick, Thelma!" and his warm breath touched her cheek. "My darling! my love! if you are not angry,--kiss me! I shall understand."
She hesitated. To Philip that instant of hesitation seemed a cycle of slow revolving years. Timidly she lifted her head. She was very pale, and her breath came and went quickly. 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.