is no doubt but that she has her ends to answer by
giving this alarm."

The old man had arisen; he looked hither and thither; he felt for his
keys, which were hanging at his girdle; and then, falling back into his
chair, he uttered one deep groan and became insensible, his whole
complexion turning to a livid paleness.

"He is dying!" exclaimed Tamar, holding him up in his chair, from which
he would have otherwise fallen. "He is dying, the poor old man is dying;
bring water, anything."

"He has often been in this way since he came here," replied Rebecca. "We
have thought that he has had a stroke; he is not the man he was a few
months since; and had I known how it would be, it is strange but I would
have found means to hinder his coming."

"If he were ever so before," said Tamar "why did you work him up, and
talk to him, as you did, about his daughter; but, fetch some water,"
she added.

"I shall not leave him with you," answered Rebecca.

"Nor shall I abandon him to your tender mercies," replied Tamar,
"whilst he is in this condition. I am not his daughter, it is true,--but
he is a feeble old man, and I will befriend him if I can."

The old gentleman at this moment fell forward with such weight, that
Tamar ran from behind him, and dropping down on her knees, received his
head on her shoulder, then, putting one arm round him, she was glad to
hear a long, deep sigh, the prelude of his returning to partial
consciousness; and as he opened his eyes, he said,--"Ah, Rachel, is it
you? You have been gone a long time."

Tamar was at that moment alone with the old man. Rebecca had heard
voices at a distance, and she had run to pull up the bridge.

"I am not your Rachel, venerable Sir," she said; "but the adopted
daughter of the Laird of Dymock," and she gently laid his head back.

"Then why do you come to me like her?" said the old man. "That is
wrong, it is very cruel; it is tormenting me before my time. I have not
hurt you, and I will give you more gold if you will not do this again."

"You rave, Sir," said Tamar. "Who do you take me for?"

"A dream," he answered. "I have been dreaming again;" and he raised
himself, shook his head, rubbed his hands across his eyes, and looked as
usual; but before he could add another word, Dymock and Shanty entered
the parlour.

Rebecca had been too late in preventing their crossing the bridge, and
they with some difficulty made the old gentleman understand that if he
had any va