"
He raised her gently in his arms; and the hope of liberty, of rescue
from Don Luis, gave her strength to grasp the light to guide them. She
could not trace their way, but she felt they left the dungeon, and
traversed many long, damp, and narrow passages, seemingly excavated in
the solid earth. All was silent, and dark as the tomb; now and then
her guide paused, as if to listen; but there was no sound. He knew
well the secret paths he trod.
The rapid motion, even the sudden change, almost deprived Marie of
consciousness. She was only sensible, by a sudden change from the
close, damp, passages to the free breezes of night, that she was in
the open air, and apparently a much freer path; that still her guide
pressed swiftly onwards, apparently scarcely feeling her light weight;
that, after a lengthened interval, she was laid tenderly on a soft,
luxurious couch--at least, so it seemed, compared with the cold floor
of her cell; that the blessed words of thanksgiving that she was
safe broke from that strangely familiar voice; and she asked no
more--seemed even to wish no more--so completely was all physical
power prostrated. She lay calm and still, conscious only that she was
saved. Her guide himself for some time disturbed her not; but after
changing his dress, and preparing a draught of cooling herbs, he knelt
down, raised her head on his knee with almost woman's tenderness, and,
holding the draught to her lips, said, gently--
"Drink, beloved child of my sainted sister; there is life and health
in the draught.
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