I can guide you, if you will trust me.' 'My bravest of girls,' he exclaimed, looking down at her.

'Trust you! Yes, I would trust my life to you--my soul--my honour--secure in your purity and good faith.' Never had eyes of living man or woman looked down upon her with such tenderness, such fervent love.

She looked up at him; looked with eyes which, at first bewildered, then grew bold, and lost themselves, as it were, in the dark grey depths of the eyes they met.

The savage wind, hustling and howling, blew her nearer to him, as a reed is blown against a rock.

Dark grey mists were rising round them like a sea; but had that ever-thickening, ever-darkening vapour been the sea itself, and death inevitable, Mary Haselden would have hardly cared.