He tapped again, and the girl woke without knowing what woke her.
Lyman put the blade of his pocket-knife under the window and raised it a little, and then placed his lips to the crack, and spoke in a sepulchral tone, half groan, half whisper: "Merry! Merry Etty!" The dazed girl sat up in bed and listened, while her heart almost stood still.
"Merry, it's me--Lime.

Come to the winder." The girl hesitated, and Lyman spoke again.
"Come, I hain't got much time.

This is your last chance t' see me.

It's now 'r never." The girl slipped out of bed and, wrapping herself in a shawl, crept to the window.
"Boost on that winder," commanded Lyman.

She raised it enough to admit his head, which came just above the sill; then she knelt on the floor by the window.
Her eyes stared wide and dark.