It yielded and a woman's arms received him.
The gentle Reuther in that hour of dire extremity, showed herself
stronger than her mother who had fallen in a faint amid the crowd.
XXIII
THE MISFORTUNES OF MY HOUSE
To one who swoons but seldom, the moment of returning
consciousness is often fraught with great pain and sometimes with
unimaginable horror. It was such to Deborah; the pain and horror
holding her till her eyes, accustomed to realities again, saw in
the angel face which floated before her vision amid a swarm of
demon masks, the sweet and solicitous countenance of Reuther.
As she took this in, she took in other facts also: that there were
no demons, no strangers even about her: That she and her child
were comparatively alone in their own little parlour, and that
Reuther's sweet face wore a look of lofty courage which reminded
her of something she could not at the moment grasp, but which was
so beautiful. At that instant her full memory came, and, uttering
a low cry, she started up, and struggling to her feet, confronted
her child, this time with a look full of agonised inquiry.
Reuther seemed to understand her; for, taking her mother's hand in
hers, she softly said:
"I knew you were not seriously ill, only frightened by the crowd
and their senseless shoutings. Don't think of it any more, dear
mother. The people are dispersing now, and you will soon be quite
restored and ready to smile with us at an attack so groundless it
is little short of absurd.
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