watcher at the foot of the bed, forgot
little Mrs. Lorimer hovering in the shadows, and Tudor waiting with the
nurse behind him. They all slipped into nothingness, and Avery--his
wife--alone remained in a world that was very dark.

Her voice came to him in a weak whisper. "Oh, Piers, I've
been--wanting you so!"

"My own darling!" he whispered back. "I will never leave you again!"

"Oh yes, you will!" she answered drearily. "You always say that, but you
are always gone in the morning. It's only a dream--only a dream!"

He slipped his arms beneath her and drew her to his breast. "It is not a
dream, Avery," he told her very earnestly. "I am here in the flesh. I am
holding you."

"I know," she said. "It's always so."

The weary conviction of her tone smote cold to his heart. He gathered her
closer still. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Avery, can't you feel me?" he said.

Her head sank against his shoulder. "Yes--yes," she said. "But you have
always done that."

"Done what, darling?"

"Imposed your will on mine--made me feel you." Her voice quivered; she
began to cry a little, weakly, like a tired child. "Do you remember--what
you said--about--about--the ticket of leave?" she said. "You leave your
dungeon--my poor Piers. But you have to go back again--when the leave has
expired. And I--I am left alone."

The tears were running down her face. He wiped them tenderly away.

"My dearest, if you want me--if you need me,--I will stay," he said.

"But you can't," she said hopelessly. "Even to-night--even to-night--I
thought you were never coming. And I went at last to look for you--behind
your iron bars. But, oh, Piers, the agony of it! And I couldn't reach you
after all, though I tried so hard--so hard."

"Never mind, my darling!" he whispered. "We are together now."

"But we shan't be when the morning comes," sobbed Avery. "I know it is
all a dream. It's happened so many, many times."

He clasped her closer, hushing her with tender words, vowing he would
never leave her, while the Shadow of Death gathered closer about them,
threatening every instant to come between.

She grew calmer at last, and presently sank into a state of
semi-consciousness lying against his breast.

Time passed. Piers did not know how it went. With his wife clasped in his
arms he sat and waited, waited--for the falling of a deeper night or the
coming of the day--he knew not which. His brain felt like a stopped
watch; it did not