-and indeed he was prowling about the doorway of his
domicile in expectation of the summons. And he shook her very cordially
by the hand, and quite 'filled-up,' at her woebegone appeal, and told
her she must not despair yet.

And this time he pronounced most positively that Sturk was still living.

'Yes, my dear Madam, so sure as you and I are. There's no mistaking.'

And as the warmth of the bed began to tell, the signs of life showed
themselves more and more unequivocally. But Toole knew that his patient
was in a state of coma, from which he had no hope of his emerging.

So poor little Mrs. Sturk--as white as the plaster on the wall--who kept
her imploring eyes fixed on the doctor's ruddy countenance, during his
moments of deliberation, burst out into a flood of tears, and
thanksgivings, and benedictions.

'He'll recover--something tells me he'll recover. Oh! my
Barney--darling--you will--you will.'

'While there's life--you know--my dear Ma'am,', said Toole, doing his
best. 'But then--you see--he's been very badly abused about the head;
and the brain you know--is the great centre--the--the--but, as I said,
while there's life, there's hope.'

'And he's so strong--he shakes off an illness so easily; he has such
courage.'

'So much the better, Ma'am.'

'And I can't but think, as he did not die outright, and has shown such
wonderful endurance. Oh! my darling, he'll get on.'

'Well, well, Ma'am, there certainly have been wonderful recoveries.'

'And he's so much better already, you see, and I know so well how he
gets through an illness, 'tis wonderful, and he certainly is mightily
improved since we got him to bed. Why, I can _see_ him breathe now, and
you know it _must_ be a good sign; and then there's a merciful God over
us--and all the poor little children--what would become of us?' And then
she wiped her eyes quickly. 'The promise, you know, of length of
days--it often comforted me before--to those that honour father and
mother; and I believe there never was so good a son. Oh! my noble
Barney, never; 'tis my want of reliance and trust in the Almighty's
goodness.'

And so, holding Toole by the cuff of his coat, and looking piteously
into his face as they stood together in the doorway, the poor little
woman argued thus with inexorable death.

Fools, and blind; when amidst our agonies of supplication the blow
descends, our faith in prayer is staggered, as if it reached not the ear
of the Allwise, and moved