here the doctors cured me, I heard all," he said,
pointing to her, "and I came to find her. I was just in time; I found
her yesterday."

"She knew you?" whispered Pierre.

"Yes, but this fever came on." He turned and looked at her, and,
kneeling, smoothed away the hair from the quiet face. "Poor girl!" he
said; "poor girl!"

"She will get well?" asked Pierre.

"God grant it!" Fingall replied. "She is better--better."

Lawless and Pierre softly turned and stole away, leaving the man alone
with the woman he loved.

The two stood in silence, looking upon the river beneath. Presently a
voice crept through the stillness. "Fingall! Oh, Fingall!--Fingall!"

It was the voice of a woman returning from the dead.

THREE COMMANDMENTS IN THE VULGAR TONGUE

I

"Read on, Pierre," the sick man said, doubling the corner of the
wolf-skin pillow so that it shaded his face from the candle.

Pierre smiled to himself, thinking of the unusual nature of his
occupation, raised an eyebrow as if to someone sitting at the other side
of the fire,--though the room was empty save for the two--and went on
reading:

"Woe to the multitude of many people, which make a noise like the
noise of the seas; and to the rushing of nations, that make a
rushing like the rushing of mighty waters!

"The nations shall rush like the rushing of many waters: but God
shall rebuke them, and they shall flee far off, and shall be chased
as the chaff of the mountains before the wind, and like a rolling
thing before the whirlwind.

"And behold at evening-tide trouble; and before the morning he is
not. This is the portion of them that spoil us, and the lot of them
that rob us."

The sick man put up his hand, motioning for silence, and Pierre, leaving
the Bible open, laid it at his side. Then he fell to studying the figure
on the couch. The body, though reduced by a sudden illness, had an
appearance of late youth, a firmness of mature manhood; but the hair was
grey, the beard was grizzled, and the face was furrowed and seamed as
though the man had lived a long, hard life. The body seemed thirty
years old, the head sixty; the man's exact age was forty-five. His most
singular characteristic was a fine, almost spiritual intelligence, which
showed in the dewy brightness of the eye, in the lighted face, in
the cadenced definiteness of his speech. One would have said, knowing
nothing of him, that he was a hermit; but again, no