"Oh Audley!" she exclaimed, and her head fell upon his shoulder, for she was weak as a child and past all exertion. She had never called him by his Christian name before, and while he felt his heart swell with a new emotion of pleasure, he ventured tenderly to kiss her cheek, and then he became aware how cold and chill it was. She seemed scarcely conscious of the act, though she said in a broken voice, "Mamma--my poor mamma shall thank you, sir--I cannot speak my own thoughts--they are too terrible and my gratitude is too deep for words." "From my soul, I thank Heaven, that I came in time to save you! A little longer here, my dearest girl, and you must have perished of cold!" said he as he perceived with genuine anxiety how pale she was and how the whole of her delicate frame shivered, but his words or manner seemed to recall her energies, for she tried to smile and said, "I shall have a strange story to write of to Denzil, and tell my papa when he returns." "Have ee found her zur--is the young lady saafe?" cried a voice there was no mistaking, down the shaft. "Safe and sound, Treherne," replied Trevelyan, whose voice made strange echoes in the cavernous recesses of the place; "we shall come up together, so take care my friends, for there will be a heavier strain on the rope--a double weight now. Permit me to lead you, Miss Devereaux--or, may I not call you Sybil?" he added, as his voice trembled a little. "You may call me what you please," replied Sybil with something of her usual frankness, "I owe my life to you," she added feebly, while clinging to his arm. "To me, after Rajah who guided us here, no doubt on hearing you cry for aid--so with the permission you accord, I shall call you Sybil--yes dearest Sybil, permit me to blindfold you." "Why?" "You may become giddy--terrified." "I submit myself to you," she answered, and he tied his handkerchief over her eyes, and while doing so, to resist touching her lovely little lips with his own, was impossible. "Pardon me for this, Sybil," said he, as the action brought a little colour to her pale cheek, "but I love you, love you dearly. Elsewhere, we shall talk of this--come, allow me to be your guide." "Shall we not wait till the tide ebbs, and escape by the sands?" she asked, and shrinking as his arm encircled her. "Dearest girl, you would die of cold ere that took place." Thus from terror and despair on Sybil's part, and from a proud and joyous sense of exultation, on that of Trevelyan, there came about abruptly, a _dénouement_ which might have been long of developing itself, even with those who were so young and enthusiastic, a declaration of love upon one hand, and a tacit acceptance of it on the other, for gratitude mastered the regard already formed in the heart of the girl.