Cardo placed his arm under her shoulders and, lifting her into a sitting posture, rested her head upon his breast, the movement, the change of position--something awoke her from her long swoon; was it the sense of Cardo's presence?
did his earnest longing call her spirit back?
for she had been close upon the shadow land.

She came back slowly, dimly conscious of escaping from some deadly horror, and awakening to something pleasant, something happy.

She slowly opened her eyes, and observing Cardo's strong right hand, which still held and chafed her own, while his left arm upheld her drenched form, she moved a little, and murmured: "Are you hurt ?" "No," said Cardo, trembling in every limb with the excitement which he had controlled until now, and with the delight of seeing life and movement return to her, "hurt?
no! only thankful to find you safe; only anxious to get you home." Valmai's voice was weak and low, and he had to bend his head over her to catch the words: "You have been near death for my sake--those dreadful waves!" "Do not think of them! I was in no danger.

But I have been nearer death since I have sat here watching your slow recovery.

Now, Valmai," he said, realising that every moment of exposure in her cold, drenched garments was danger to her, "be brave; give yourself up to me, and I will carry you home." But this adjuration was needless, for as he placed her gently down while he rose to his feet he felt that she was limp and powerless as a baby; he lifted her in his arms, and felt her weight no more than if he had carried a storm-beaten bird.