At last the tender creature on the bench gently stirred, feebly opened her eyes, and faintly asked where she was. Dick immediately enlightened her. She appeared astonished at what had befallen, and murmured, reflectively, "I shouldn't have thought he would take that way of doing it," then checked herself as if she had said too much. Dick supposed she alluded to the rich suitor, and that the attempted abduction was the work of that person. He could not enough thank heaven for having enabled him to be her preserver, and he sat by her side, on the bench, while she remained wrapped in the cloak, apparently too prostrated by the recent occurrence to return immediately to her chamber. And now was the time for a romantic love scene, suitable to the youth and beauty of the two participants, to the charm of the surroundings, to the May night, the moonlight, the odor of flowers, the ripple of the stream, and the preceding circumstances of the interview; and doubtless the conversation was poetic enough to the two who engaged in it, thanks to all these matters and to the glances, low tones of agitation, suppressed fervor, tremblings, etc.; but the talk in itself was no more original or impassioned than this: "I'm glad you aren't hurt," said she. "It would be a happiness to carry forever a wound received in such a cause,--'pon honor, it would!" said he. "Will they come back, do you think? I sha'n't be able to sleep, the rest of the night, for fear of them!" "You have nothing to fear. I shall keep guard under your window all night." "Oh, no, sir! You will take cold." "I cannot. I shall be on fire. My heart will glow with your image, which has occupied it ever since I saw you before the inn at Marlboro yesterday." "Why, did you notice me then? I saw you looking out of the window, and I said to Celestine, 'What a frank and generous face! If my--if some person were but like that!'" "You said that, really,--and meant it,--and mean it still?" "Why, to be sure, how could I mean it less, after all that has happened to-night?" He now plunged deep into ardent love-making, at which she seemed to be both frightened and, in spite of herself, pleased. Not making any direct response, she began to sound him as to his character and opinions, his views on matters pertaining to love and propriety and honorable conduct, and finally as to whether he would deem a love between a married and a single person, under any possible circumstances, justifiable. He declared that, for his part, he would never make love to a married woman, that he would rob no man, nor injure any in a matter so sacred,--excepting possibly one man, to whom he owed the keenest of revenges, Mr. Bullcott, of Bullcott Hall, Somersetshire. At this declaration, an unaccountable strange look--astonishment mingled with secret elation--overspread her face. "Why do you look so?" inquired Dick.