Scarcely had they gone a few steps, when the maiden began to complain softly, and soon burst out into loud lamentations, that she was freezing with the cold. Peregrine, whose blood glowed through his veins, who had therefore been insensible to the weather, and never thought of her being so lightly clad, without even a shawl or a tucker, now on a sudden saw his folly, and would have wrapt her in his cloak. This, however, she rejected, exclaiming piteously, "No, my dear Peregrine, that avails me nothing: my feet!--Ah, my feet! I shall die with the dreadful agony." And she was about to drop, half senseless, as she cried out with a faint voice, "Carry me, carry me, my sweet friend!" Without more ado, Peregrine took up the light little creature in his arms like a child, and wrapt her in his cloak. But he had not gone far with his burthen, before the wild intoxication of desire took more and more possession of him, and, as he hurried half way through the streets, he covered the neck and bosom of the lovely creature, who had nestled closely to him with burning kisses. At last he felt as if waking with a sudden jerk out of a dream: he found himself at a house-door, and, looking up, recognised his own house, in the Horse-market, when, for the first time, it occurred to him that he had not asked the maiden where she lived; he collected himself therefore with effort, and said, "Lady--sweet, angelic creature where is your abode?" "Here, my dear Peregrine," she replied, lifting up her head; "here, in this house: I am your Alina; I live with you; but get the door open quickly." "No----never!" cried Peregrine, in horror, and let her sink down. "How!" exclaimed the stranger--"how! Peregrine, you would reject me? and yet know my dreadful fate,--and yet know that, child of misfortune as I am, I have no refuge, and must perish here miserably if you will not take me in as usual! But perhaps you wish that I should perish? Be it so then! Only carry me to the fountain, that my corse may not be found before your door. Ha!--the stone dolphins may, perchance, have more pity than you have. Woe is me!--woe is me!--The bitter cold!" She sank down in a swoon; Peregrine was seized with despair, and exclaiming wildly, "Let it be as it will, I cannot do otherwise--" he lifted up the lifeless little thing, took her in his arms, and rang violently at the bell. No sooner was the door opened than he rushed by the servant, and instead of waiting, according to his usual custom, till he got to the top of the stairs, and then tapping gently, he shouted out, "Alina! Alina! light!" and, indeed, so loudly, that the whole floor re-echoed it. "How!--what!--what's this?--what does this mean?" exclaimed the old woman, opening her eyes widely as Peregrine unfolded the maiden from his cloak, and laid her with great care upon the sofa. "Quick, Alina, quick! Fire in the grate!--salts!--punch!--beds here!"