gh to get rid
of one sick of the plague, helped her into the batteau. The lady was
not insensible, as might be supposed, after her cold bath, but extremely
wide-awake, and gazing around her with her great, black, shining eyes.
But she made no resistance; either she was too faint or frightened
for that, and suffered herself to be hoisted about, "passive to all
changes." Ormiston spread his cloak in the stern of the boat, and
laid her tenderly upon it, and though the beautiful, wistful eyes were
solemnly and unwinkingly fixed on his face, the pale, sweet lips parted
not--uttered never a word. The wet bridal robes were drenched and
dripping about her, the long dark hair hung in saturated masses over her
neck and arms, and contrasted vividly with a face, Ormiston thought at
once, the whitest, most beautiful, and most stonelike he had ever seen.

"Thank you, my man; thank you, my lord," said Ormiston, preparing to
push off.

Rochester, who had been leaning from the barge, gazing in mingled
curiosity, wonder, and admiration at the lovely face, turned now to her
champion.

"Who is she, Ormiston?" he said, persuasively.

But Ormiston only laughed, and rowed energetically for the shore. The
crowd was still lingering; and half a dozen hands were extended to draw
the boat up to the landing. He lifted the light form in his arms and
bore it from the boat; but before he could proceed farther with his
armful of beauty, a faint but imperious voice spoke: "Please put me
down. I am not a baby, and can walk myself."

Ormiston was so surprised, or rather dismayed, by this unexpected
address, that he complied at once, and placed her on her own pretty
feet. But the young lady's sense of propriety was a good deal stronger
than her physical powers; and she swayed and tottered, and had to cling
to her unknown friend for support.

"You are scarcely strong enough, I am afraid, dear lady," he said,
kindly. "You had better let me carry you. I assure you I am quite equal
to it, or even a more weighty burden, if necessity required."

"Thank you, sir," said the faint voice, faintly; "but I would rather
walk. Where are you taking me to?"

"To your own house, if you wish--it is quite close at hand."

"Yes. Yes. Let us go there! Prudence is there, and she will take care of
me.".

"Will she?" said Ormiston, doubtfully. "I hope you do not suffer much
pain!"

"I do not suffer at all," she said, wearily; "only I am so tired. Oh, I
wish I were