which approached so menacingly—for large masses of cloud rolled over the face of the sky, and distant lightning announced a storm.
The storm broke about ten o’clock. Milady felt a consolation in seeing nature partake of the disorder of her heart. The thunder growled in the air like the passion and anger in her thoughts. It appeared to her that the blast as it swept along disheveled her brow, as it bowed the branches of the trees and bore away their leaves. She howled as the hurricane howled; and her voice was lost in the great voice of nature, which also seemed to groan with despair.
All at once she heard a tap at her window, and by the help of a flash of lightning she saw the face of a man appear behind the bars.
She ran to the window and opened it.
“Felton!” cried she. “I am saved.”
“Yes,” said Felton; “but silence, silence! I must have time to file through these bars. Only take care that I am not seen through the wicket.”
“Oh, it is a proof that the Lord is on our side, Felton,” replied Milady. “They have closed up the grating with a board.”
“That is well; God has made them senseless,” said Felton.
“But what must I do?” asked Milady.
“Nothing, nothing, only shut the window. Go to bed, or at least lie down in your clothes. As soon as I have done I will knock on one of the panes of glass. But will you be able to follow me?”
“Oh, yes!”
“Your wound?”