The Woodlanders - Page 267/314

A dreadful enlightenment spread through the mind of Grace. "Oh," she

cried, in her anguish, as she hastily prepared herself to go out, "how

selfishly correct I am always--too, too correct! Cruel propriety is

killing the dearest heart that ever woman clasped to her own."

While speaking thus to herself she had lit the lantern, and hastening

out without further thought, took the direction whence the mutterings

had proceeded. The course was marked by a little path, which ended at

a distance of about forty yards in a small erection of hurdles, not

much larger than a shock of corn, such as were frequent in the woods

and copses when the cutting season was going on. It was too slight

even to be called a hovel, and was not high enough to stand upright in;

appearing, in short, to be erected for the temporary shelter of fuel.

The side towards Grace was open, and turning the light upon the

interior, she beheld what her prescient fear had pictured in snatches

all the way thither.

Upon the straw within, Winterborne lay in his clothes, just as she had

seen him during the whole of her stay here, except that his hat was

off, and his hair matted and wild.

Both his clothes and the straw were saturated with rain. His arms were

flung over his head; his face was flushed to an unnatural crimson. His

eyes had a burning brightness, and though they met her own, she

perceived that he did not recognize her.

"Oh, my Giles," she cried, "what have I done to you!"

But she stopped no longer even to reproach herself. She saw that the

first thing to be thought of was to get him indoors.

How Grace performed that labor she never could have exactly explained.

But by dint of clasping her arms round him, rearing him into a sitting

posture, and straining her strength to the uttermost, she put him on

one of the hurdles that was loose alongside, and taking the end of it

in both her hands, dragged him along the path to the entrance of the

hut, and, after a pause for breath, in at the door-way.

It was somewhat singular that Giles in his semi-conscious state

acquiesced unresistingly in all that she did. But he never for a

moment recognized her--continuing his rapid conversation to himself,

and seeming to look upon her as some angel, or other supernatural

creature of the visionary world in which he was mentally living. The

undertaking occupied her more than ten minutes; but by that time, to

her great thankfulness, he was in the inner room, lying on the bed, his

damp outer clothing removed.