In spite of the peril they had encountered, and their present discomfort
and perplexity, Greenleaf now experienced an indescribable pleasure.
Marcia was exhausted with fatigue and terror, and rested her head upon
his shoulder. Unconsciously, he used the cheering, caressing tones which
the circumstances naturally prompted. It was an occasion to draw out
what was most manly, most tender, most chivalric in him. The pride of
the woman was gone, her artifices forgotten. In that hour she had looked
beyond the factitious distinctions of society; she had found herself
face to face with her companion without disguise, as spirit looks
upon spirit, and she felt herself drawn to him by the loyalty which a
superior nature inevitably inspires.
A slight movement of the boat caused Greenleaf to turn his head. Just
behind him there was a shelf not three feet above the gunwale; beyond
that was a second step, and still farther a winding fissure. After
measuring the distances again with his eye, to be sure that he should
raise no illusive hope, he pointed out to Marcia the way of escape.
Their conversation had naturally taken an affectionate turn, and
Greenleaf's delicate courtesy and hardly ambiguous words had raised
a tumult in her bosom which could no longer be repressed. She flung
herself into his arms, and with tears exclaimed,--
"Dear George, you have saved my life! It is yours! Take me!"
The rush of emotion swept away the last barrier; he yielded to the
impulse; he clasped her fondly in his arms and gave his heart and soul
to her keeping.
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