"No, not to-night," he said. "He the stern father may relent, or fill up
the full measure of his iniquities. The morrow; God knoweth what it may
bring for me. If all should fail me, then this shall be my friend. Yes,
even in his presence will I fling at his feet the loathed life he gave!"

He threw himself upon the sofa, but not to sleep. Hour after hour passed
onward towards eternity. One, two, three, spoke out the loud voice of
Time, and it sounded in the ears of the watcher like his knell.

And she, the fair child--she who had, at sixteen, outlived the fear of
death. Had he won her young spirit back to earth, to mar its purity with
the stains of human passion? There was not a feeling in his heart at
that moment so sad as this. How deeply he regretted that he ever had
been admitted to that peaceful home.

But was she not a Wildegrave, and was not misery hers by right of
inheritance? And then he thought of his mother--thought of his own
desolate childhood--of his poor uncle--of his selfish but still dear
cousin Godfrey, and overcome by these sad reflections, as the glad sun
broke over the hills, bringing life and joy to the earth, he sunk into a
deep, dreamless sleep, from which he did not awaken until the broad
shadows of evening were deepening into night.

When old Ruth dusted out the parlor, she was surprised to find him
asleep upon the sofa. He looked so pale and ill, that she flung Miss
Clary's large cloak over him, and went up stairs to inform her mistress
of such an unusual occurrence.

All day Clary had sat beside him, holding, almost unconsciously, his
burning hand in hers. Often she bathed his temples with sal-volatile and