et was
deserted. No one in the house saw us. I, for my part, did not think
whether I was seen or not. All my thoughts were turned to the one whom
I held in my arms.

I took the cloud which was wrapped around her head, and tenderly and
delicately drew it down from her face.

Oh, Heavens! what was this that I saw?

The lights flashed out, and revealed it unmistakably. There--then--
resting on my shoulder--under my gaze--now fully revealed--there lay
the face that had haunted me--the face for which I had longed, and
yearned, and craved! There it lay--that never-to-be-forgotten face--
with the marble features, the white lips, the closed eyes, the stony
calm--there it lay--the face of her whom alone I loved--the Lady of the
Ice!

What was this? I felt my old mood returning. Was this real? Was it not
a vision? How was it that she came to me again through the storm, again
to sink down, and again to rest her senseless form in my arms, and her
head upon my breast?

For a few moments I looked at her in utter bewilderment. All the wild
fancies which I had just been having now came back. I had wandered
through the storm in search of her, and she had come. Here she was--
here, in my arms!

Around us the storm raged as once before; and again, as before, the
fierce sleet dashed upon that white face; and again, as before, I
shielded it from its fury.

As I looked upon her I could now recognize her fully and plainly; and
at that recognition the last vestige of my wild, superstitious feeling
died out utterly, for she whom I held in my arms was no phantom, nor
was she Nora. I had been in some way intentionally deceived, but all
the time my own instinct had been true; for, now, when the Lady of the
lee again lay in my arms, I recognized her, and I saw that she was no
other than _Marion_.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

MY LADY OF THE ICE.--SNOW AND SLEET.--REAWAKENING.--A DESPERATE
SITUATION.--SAVED A SECOND TIME.--SNATCHED FROM A WORSE FATE.--BORNE IN
MY ARMS ONCE MORE.--THE OPEN DOOR.

So there she lay before me--the Lady of the Ice, discovered, at last,
and identified with Marion. And she lay there reclining on my arms as
once before, and in the snow, with the pitiless blast beating upon her.
And the first question that arose was, "What can I do?"

Ay--that was the question. What could I do?

I leave to the reader to try and imagine the unparalleled embarrassment
of such a situation. For there was I, in an agony of eagernes