But when she did, she was refreshed; and opening her eyes--hardly conscious where she was, or whether all that floated in her memory were not the departing vapors of a frightful dream--she turned her head and fixed them upon the figure of the knight, who was seated near her.

His noble air; and the pensive expression of his fine features, struck like a spell upon her gathering recollections; she at once remembered all she had suffered, all that she owed to him.

She moved.

Her preserver turned his eyes toward her; seeing she was awake, he rose from the side of the dying embers he had sedulously kept alive during her slumber, and expressed his hopes that she felt restored.
She returned him a grateful reply, in the affirmative; and he quitted her, to rouse his men for their journey to the hermit's cell.
When he re-entered, he found Helen braiding up the fine hair which had so lately been scattered by the elements.

She would have risen at his approach, but he seated himself on a stone at her feet.