“Innocent!—­My little love!—­Innocent!”

She made no answer—­no sort of resistance.  Her little body hung heavily in his arms—­her head drooped helplessly against his shoulder.

“Priscilla!” he called—­“Priscilla!”

Priscilla was already beside him—­she had hurried into the hall directly she heard his exclamation of fear and amazement, and now as she saw him carrying the forlorn little burden tenderly along she threw up her hands with a piteous, almost despairing gesture.

“God save us all!—­It’s the child herself!” she exclaimed—­“Mercy on the poor lamb!—­what can have happened to her?—­she’s half drowned with rain!”

As quickly as Robin’s strong arms could bear her, she was carried gently into the kitchen and laid in Robin’s own deep arm-chair by the fire.  Roused to immediate practical service and with all her superstitious terrors at an end, old Priscilla took off a soaked little velvet hat and began to unfasten a wet mass of soft silk that clung round the fragile little figure.

“Go and bar the door fast, Mister Robin, my dear!” she said, looking up at the young man’s pale, agonised face,—­“We don’t want any one comin’ in here to see the child in trouble!—­besides, the wind’s enough to scare a body to death!  Poor lamb, poor lamb!—­ where she can have come from the good Lord only knows!  It’s for all the world like the night when she was left here, long ago!  Lock and bar the door, dearie, and get me some of that precious old wine out of the cupboard in the best parlour.”  Here her active fingers came upon the glittering diamond pendant in the shape of a dove that hung by its slender gold chain round Innocent’s neck.  She unclasped it, looking at it wonderingly—­then she handed it to Robin who regarded it with sombre, grudging eyes.  Was it a love-gift?—­and from whom?

“And while you’re about helping me,” went on Priscilla—­“you might go to the child’s room and fetch me that old white woolly gown she used to wear—­it’s warm and soft, and we’ll put it on her and wrap her in a blanket when she comes to herself.  She’ll be all right presently.”

Like a man in a moving dream he obeyed, and while he went on his errands Priscilla managed to get off some of the dripping garments which clung to the girl’s slight form as closely as the wrappings of a shroud.  Chafing the small icy hands, she smoothed the drenched fair hair, loosening its pins and combs, and spreading it out to dry, murmuring fond words of motherly pity and tenderness while the tears trickled slowly down her furrowed cheeks.

“My poor baby!—­my pretty child!” she murmured—­“What has broken her like this?—­The world’s been too rough for her—­I misdoubt me if her fancies about love an’ the like o’ that nonsense aren’t in the mischief,—­but praise the Lord that’s brought her home again, an’ if so be it pleases Him we’ll keep her home!”

As she thought this, Innocent suddenly opened her eyes.  Beautiful, wild eyes that stared at her wonderingly without recognition.