"Death! how lovely canst thou be!" sighed the knight to himself-he even
groaned. Helen started, and looked around her with alarm. "Fear not,"
said he, "I only dreaded your pale looks; but you revive, and will yet
bless all that are dear to you. Suffer me, sweet lady, to drain the
dangerous wet from these tresses?" He took hold of them as he spoke.
She saw the water running from her hair over his hands, and allowing
his kind request, he continued wiping her glossy locks with his scarf,
till, exhausted by fatigue, she gradually sunk into a profound sleep.
Dawn had penetrated the ruined walls of the hut before Lady Helen
awoke. 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.
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