She had only swooned. Then he set his teeth,
and placing his arms about her, lifted her as though she were a babe.
Beatrice was no slip of a girl, but a well-grown woman of full size. He
never felt her weight; it seemed nothing to him. Stealthily as one bent
on midnight murder, he stepped with her to the door and through it into
the passage. Then supporting her with one arm, he closed the door with
his left hand. Stealthily in the gloom he passed along the corridor, his
bare feet making no noise upon the boarded floor, till he reached the
bisecting passage leading from the sitting-rooms.
He glanced up it apprehensively, and what he saw froze the blood in
his veins, for there coming down it, not eight paces from him, was Mr.
Granger, holding a candle in his hand. What could be done? To get
back to his room was impossible--to reach that of Beatrice was also
impossible. With an effort he collected his thoughts, and like a flash
of light it passed into his mind that the empty room was not two paces
from him. A stride and he had reached it. Oh, where was the handle? and
oh, if the room should be locked! By a merciful chance it was not.
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