s had thrown her upon his hospitality,
and she had looked upon him almost as a brother ever since the days of
her childhood.

She knew that he was dying; there was that in his face which told as
much all too well to those who had long been looking upon death. To have
left him at such a moment would have seemed far more strange and
unnatural than to remain. In those times of terror stranger things were
done daily, no man thinking aught of it.

So she smiled as she heard John's last words, trying to recall the day
when she had first seen Raymond at Master Bernard's house, when he had
seemed to her little more than a boy, albeit a very knightly and
chivalrous one. Now her feelings towards him were far different: not
that she thought less of his knightliness and chivalry, but that she was
half afraid to let her mind dwell too much upon him and her thoughts of
him; for of late, since they had been toiling together in the
hand-to-hand struggle against disease and death, she was conscious of a
feeling toward him altogether new in her experience, and his face was
seldom out of her mental vision. The sound of his voice was ever in her
ears; and she always knew, by some strange intuition, when he was near,
whether she could see him or not.

She knew even as John spoke that he was approaching; and as the latch of
the door clicked a soft wave of colour rose in her pale cheek, and she
turned her head with a gesture that spoke a mute welcome.

"They tell me that thou art sick, good John," said Raymond, coming
forward into the bright circle of the firelight.

The dancing flames lit up that pale young face, worn and hollow with
long watching and stress of work, and showed that Raymond had changed
somewhat during those weeks of strange experience. Some of the
dreaminess had gone out of the eyes, to be replaced by a luminous
steadfastness of expression which had always been there, but was now
greatly intensified. Pure, strong, and noble, the face was that of a man
rather than a boy, and yet the bright, almost boyish, alertness and
eagerness were still quickly apparent when he entered into conversation,
and turned from one companion to another. It was the same Raymond -- yet
with a difference; and both of his companions scanned him with some
curiosity as he took his seat beside John's couch and asked of his
cousin's welfare.

"Nay, trouble not thyself over me; thou knowest that my life's sands are
well-nigh run out. I have been spa