rried Christine to a couch and laid her down. This had the
effect of reviving her. Nicholas bent and whispered in her ear, 'Lie
quiet, dearest, no hurry; and dream, dream, dream of happy days. It is
only I. You will soon be better.' He held her by the hand.

'No, no, no!' she said, with a stare. 'O, how can this be?'

Nicholas was alarmed and perplexed, but the disclosure was not long
delayed. When she had sat up, and by degrees made the stunning event
known to him, he stood as if transfixed.

'Ah--is it so?' said he. Then, becoming quite meek, 'And why was he so
cruel as to--delay his return till now?'

She dutifully recited the explanation her husband had given her through
the messenger; but her mechanical manner of telling it showed how much
she doubted its truth. It was too unlikely that his arrival at such a
dramatic moment should not be a contrived surprise, quite of a piece with
his previous dealings towards her.

'But perhaps it may be true--and he may have become kind now--not as he
used to be,' she faltered. 'Yes, perhaps, Nicholas, he is an altered
man--we'll hope he is. I suppose I ought not to have listened to my
legal advisers, and assumed his death so surely! Anyhow, I am roughly
received back into--the right way!'

Nicholas burst out bitterly: 'O what too, too honest fools we were!--to
so court daylight upon our intention by putting that announcement in the
papers! Why could we not have married privately, and gone away, so that
he would never have known what had become of you, even if he had
returned? Christine, he has done it to . . . But I'll say no more. Of
course we--might fly now.'

'No, no; we might not,' said she hastily.

'Very well. But this is hard to bear! "When I looked for good then evil
came unto me, and when I waited for light there came darkness." So once
said a sorely tried man in the land of Uz, and so say I now! . . . I
wonder if he is almost here at this moment?'

She told him she supposed Bellston was approaching by the path across the
fields, having sent on his great-coat, which he would not want walking.

'And is this meal laid for him, or for me?'

'It was laid for you.'

'And it will be eaten by him?'

'Yes.'

'Christine, are you sure that he is come, or have you been sleeping over
the fire and dreaming it?'

She pointed anew to the portmanteau with the initials 'J. B.,' and to the
coat beside it.

'Well, good-bye--good-bye! Curse that parso