"Go?" he queried, gently. "Go? Why, my child, you could not stand on your feet a moment--the gale would dash you to the earth. Stay here, where you are safe." The silence closed about them again, yet she vaguely felt there was no calm in it--it seemed only dormant. Then dimly it came to her to ask Mr. Thrall to let her go to the box-office to wait, when suddenly the building shook as a toy house might have done, and there came a deafening, rumbling crash above their very heads, it seemed, though truly it was a chimney falling above the stage roof, and Sybil's one wild scream of terror was smothered on Thrall's breast! "Don't, don't, my--!" he whispered, hoarsely, holding her trembling hand to his lips and covering it with kisses. "Don't shiver so! 'Twas nothing! You are quite safe--quite safe! Sybil--Princess! I'd shelter you in my arms, and guard you with my life--always! if I might! if I might!" His arms were about her. The dull roar of the rain was like the roaring from a distant world--they were alone--utterly alone--in the dimness warm and fragrant. She was all unstrung and weak from fright. His words seemed half real, half dreamed. She raised her head--she put two impotent little hands against his breast. "Please!" she gasped. "I am not frightened now! I--" A strange lassitude was upon her. A door somewhere banged heavily--she shivered as at a blow! Her head sank back upon his breast. He bent over her, his face all passion-pale, his heavy, drooping lids betraying their girl-like length of lashes. "Sybil!" he breathed. Her eyes, wide and startled, met his. "Sybil!" he entreated. "Sweetheart!" His lips met hers in one long, tender kiss, and the house rocked in the fury of the gale! CHAPTER XXII PREPARING THE PIT For some time the question troubling the Lawton family had been how and where to establish Sybil for the term of her engagement at the Globe. Returning to Woodsedge after performances was not to be thought of. No, a residence in the city was an absolute necessity.