was in total darkness
save for the light of the lantern the ranger carried; but there were
lamps in sconces all along the wall, and these Roger quickly lighted,
being familiar enough with this underground place, which it had been
part of his duty to see to. The light from these lamps was pure and
white and very bright, and lit up the weird vaulted chamber from end to
end. It shone upon a stiffened figure lying prone upon the floor not far
from the vaulted fireplace, upon whose hearth the embers lay black and
cold; and Raymond, springing suddenly forward as his glance rested upon
this figure, feared that he had come too late, and that the foe of his
house had passed beyond the power of human aid.

"Help me to lift him," he said to Stephen; "and, Roger, kindle thou a
fire upon the hearth. There may be life in him yet. We will try what we
know. Yes, methinks his heart beats faintly; and the tokens of the
distemper are plainly out upon him. Perchance he may yet live. Of late I
have seen men rise up from their beds whom we have given up for lost."

Raymond was beginning to realize that the black boils, so often looked
upon as the death tokens, were by no means in reality anything of the
kind. As a matter of fact, of the cases that recovered, most, if not
all, had the plague spots upon them. These boils were, in fact, nature's
own effort at expelling the virulent poison from the system, and if
properly treated by mild methods and poultices, in some cases really
brought relief, so that the patient eventually recovered.

But the intensity of the poison, and its rapid action upon the human
organs, made cases of recovery rare indeed at the outset, when the
outbreak always came in its most virulent form; and truly the appearance
of old Peter Sanghurst was such as almost to preclude hope of
restoration. Tough as he was in constitution, the glaze of death seemed
already in his eyes. He was all but pulseless and as cold as death,
whilst the spasmodic twitchings of his limbs when he was lifted spoke of
death rather than life.

Still Raymond would not give up hope. He had the fire kindled, and it
soon blazed up hot and fierce, whilst the old man was wrapped in a rich
furred cloak which Roger produced from a cupboard, and some hot cordial
forced between his lips. After one or two spasmodic efforts which might
have been purely muscular, he appeared to make an attempt to swallow,
and in a few more minutes it became plain that he was re