try to bring fresh misery on his mother's
head, and to destroy the whole happiness of his sister's life? "No,"
said the stronghearted woman, "it must not be. No one is guilty here
but I. I am the real cause of his miserable end, I with my foolish
indulgence and subservience from excess of love! No one shall
suffer--ought to suffer, but I. I shall not have any joy in the son
whom God seemed to have given me to replace my lost one; my other
child will go away, and I shall be left solitary, with only my own
misery--misery purchased by a double falsehood!"

She sank again into gloomy brooding, till the minster clock struck
nine. Then she started, and gathering together all the strength of a
desolate soul, she called to Lisabethli to bring her her coif, as she
had a necessary errand that took her out. The girl wondered at her
going so late, but did not like to ask any questions, having indeed in
her early days too many experiences of unusual proceedings on her
mother's part to dwell much upon this wonder, especially now she had
such happy thoughts of her own. But old Valentin could not refrain from
enquiring whether he might not light the lantern and accompany his
mistress. She shook her head in silence, doubled her veil over her
face, and left the house.

It was no great distance to the hospital, but she often felt as though
she should never be able to reach it. "O Lord God!" she inwardly
prayed, "take me away from earth! It is too much--Thou visitest Thy
servant too severely!" And yet something too seemed to draw her onwards
to the place where she should behold for the last time the long yearned
after face of her lost son!

When she reached the site of the old pest-house, with its handsome
chapel, a man dressed in black drew near and whispered her name. It
was, she knew, her friend the chief sergeant, but they did not exchange
words, and he led her through the side-door, which he unlocked, into
the interior of the building. They entered a dimly-lighted hall, where
the hospital attendant on duty had fallen asleep on a bench. Their
footsteps wakened him, but at a signal from the sergeant he remained
where he was, while the former lighted another taper, and preceded the
lady. They went up some steps, and through a long passage to a kind of
cellar-door which stood half open. "If you prefer to go in alone," said
he, "take the taper. I will wait for you in the passage."

She bowed assent in silence, took the tin sconce into