"Do you fancy the villain was severely wounded?"

"Not so--I trust not so; he seemed able to--But stop--oh God!--stop!--
your foot is dabbling in blood--blood shed by me,--off! off!"

Lester moved aside with a quick abhorrence, as he saw that his feet were
indeed smearing the blood over the polished and slippery surface of the
oak boards, and in moving he stumbled against a dark lantern in which the
light still burnt, and which the robbers in their flight had left.

"Yes," said Aram observing it. "It was by that--their own light that I
saw them--saw their faces--and--and--(bursting into a loud, wild laugh)
they were both strangers!"

"Ah, I thought so, I knew so," said Lester plucking the instrument from
the bureau. "I knew they could be no Grassdale men. What, did you fancy,
they could be? But--bless me, Madeline--what ho! help!--Aram, she has
fainted at your feet."

And it was indeed true and remarkable, that so utter had been the
absorption of Aram's mind, that he had been insensible not only to the
entrance of Madeline, but even that she had thrown herself on his breast.
And she, overcome by her feelings, had slid to the ground from that
momentary resting-place, in a swoon which Lester, in the general tumult
and confusion, was now the first to perceive.

At this exclamation, at the sound of Madeline's name, the blood rushed
back from Aram's heart, where it had gathered, icy and curdling; and,
awakened thoroughly and at once to himself, he knelt down, and weaving
his arms around her, supported her head on his breast, and called upon