uld shortly snatch from his arms, pouring forth assurances Maurice
would once have hailed as words of life, but which now fell powerless
upon his unheeding ears. While Count Tristan's overwhelming anguish
lasted, there was no promise he would not have made to purchase his
son's restoration, and no promise he would not have broken, if interest
prompted, when the peril was past.

After one of these agitating interviews, the doctor's edict entirely
closed the door of the patient's chamber against the count, who was
forced to admit the wisdom of the order.

Gaston de Bois and Ronald Walton, between whom a pleasant intimacy was
springing up, continued to watch by the bed of Maurice. Another
fortnight passed, and though he lay, as it were, in a grave of fire, the
doctor's prediction of typhus fever was not verified. At the expiration
of this period, Ronald was the first to notice a favorable change, and
to discover that the invalid had lucid intervals which showed his reason
was reascending her abdicated throne. But he abstained from pointing out
the improvement to Gaston, fearing that, in his joy, he might
communicate the consolatory intelligence to the count, who would then
insist upon seeing his son, and possibly reproduce the evil results by
which his former visits had been attended.

Maurice had ceased to moan and mutter, and lay motionless as one
thoroughly exhausted. He slept much, waking for but a few moments, and
sinking again into a species of half-lethargy. There was something
inexpressibly sweet and pleasant in his present calmness; his mind
seemed to have been mysteriously soothed and satisfied; the turbulent
waves, that dashed him hither and thither against the sharp rocks of
doubt and fear, had subsided. His features, especially when he slept,
wore an expression of the most serene contentment.

The _soeur de bon secours_, who had watched him through the night, had
yielded her place to the "sister," who assumed the office of nurse
during the day. Gaston entered soon after, and, finding the patient
gently slumbering, sat down beside his bed. After a time, Maurice
stirred, drew a long breath, and slowly opened his eyes. They met those
of his watcher. For some time the invalid gazed at him without speaking,
and then said, in a tone that was hardly audible,--

"M. de Bois."

"My dear Maurice--dear friend--you are better,--you know me at last,"
exclaimed Gaston, joyfully.

"I knew you before; you have been th