o make him see
what was. Then Lucy began to hum and buzz sweet baby-language, and
some of the tiny fingers stirred, and he made as if to change his cosy
position, but reconsidered, and deferred it, with a peaceful little
sigh. Lucy whispered: "He is such a big fellow. Oh! when you see him
awake he is so like you, Richard."

He did not hear her immediately: it seemed a bit of heaven dropped there
in his likeness: the more human the fact of the child grew the more
heavenly it seemed. His son! his child! should he ever see him awake?
At the thought, he took the words that had been spoken, and started from
the dream he had been in. "Will he wake soon, Lucy?"

"Oh no! not yet, dear: not for hours. I would have kept him awake for
you, but he was so sleepy."

Richard stood back from the cot. He thought that if he saw the eyes of
his boy, and had him once on his heart, he never should have force to
leave him. Then he looked down on him, again struggled to tear himself
away. Two natures warred in his bosom, or it may have been the Magian
Conflict still going on. He had come to see his child once and to make
peace with his wife before it should be too late. Might he not stop
with them? Might he not relinquish that devilish pledge? Was not divine
happiness here offered to him?--If foolish Ripton had not delayed to
tell him of his interview with Mountfalcon all might have been well. But
pride said it was impossible. And then injury spoke. For why was he
thus base and spotted to the darling of his love? A mad pleasure in the
prospect of wreaking vengeance on the villain who had laid the trap for
him, once more blackened his brain. If he would stay he could not. So
he resolved, throwing the burden on Fate. The struggle was over, but oh,
the pain!

Lucy beheld the tears streaming hot from his face on the child's cot.
She marvelled at such excess of emotion. But when his chest heaved, and
the extremity of mortal anguish appeared to have seized him, her heart
sank, and she tried to get him in her arms. He turned away from her and
went to the window. A half-moon was over the lake.

"Look!" he said, "do you remember our rowing there one night, and we saw
the shadow of the cypress? I wish I could have come early to-night that
we might have had another row, and I have heard you sing there!"

"Darling!" said she, "will it make you happier if I go with you now? I
will."

"No, Lucy. Lucy, you are brave!"

"Oh, no! that I'm not. I tho