s stainless as a frozen snowdrop,
and while his covetous gaze dwelt upon her he felt that he could lay
her in her coffin now, with less suffering, than see her live to give
her brave heart to any other man. To lift her spotless and untrampled
from the mire of foul suspicion, where his hand had hurled her, was the
supreme task to which he proposed to devote his energies; but
selfishness was the sharpest spur; she must be his, only his, otherwise
he would prefer to see her in the arms of death.

So the night waned; and twice, when the warden's wife stole to the
door, he lilted his head and waved her back. When the clock in the
tower struck four, he felt a slight quiver in the fingers lying within
his palm, and Beryl's face turned on the pillow, bringing her head
against his shoulder. Was it the magnet of his touch drawing her
unconsciously toward him, or merely the renewal of strength, attested
already by the quickened throb of the pulse that beat under his clasp?
By degrees her breathing became audible to his strained ear, and once a
sigh, such as escapes a tired child, told that nature was rallying her
physical forces, and that the tide was turning. Treacherous to his
plighted troth, and to the trusting woman whom he had assiduously wooed
and won, he yielded to the hungry yearning that possessed him, and
suddenly pressed his lips to Beryl's beautiful mouth. Under that
fervent touch, consciousness came back, and the lids lifted, the dull
eyes looked into his with drowsy wonder. Stepping swiftly to the door
which stood ajar, he met Mrs. Singleton, and put his hand on her
shoulder.

"She is awake, and will soon be fully conscious, but perfect quiet is
the only safeguard against relapse. When she remembers, leave her as
much alone as possible, and answer no questions."

Holding her baby on her breast, Mrs. Singleton whispered:

"Put out the lamp, so that she can see nothing to remind her."

As he took his hat, and put his hand on the lamp, he looked back at the
cot, and saw the solemn eyes fixed upon him. He extinguished the light,
and passed into the room where Susie Singleton stood waiting.

"She will not know Sister Serena, and for a day or two I will keep out
of sight when she is awake. Mr. Dunbar, God has done His part, now see
that you do yours. Have you found out who 'Ricordo' is?"

"Certainly, it is a thing; not a person. As yet the word has given no
aid."

"Then you have discovered nothing new during your