aced attendants moved with muffled tread backwards and forwards
from the ring of light around the bed into the dark shadows that lay
beyond.

When Philip came, the clergyman ceased praying, and drew back into the
further part of the room, as did Pigott and the nurse, the former
taking the baby with her.

Hilda motioned to him to come close to her. He came, and bent over and
kissed her, and she, with an effort, threw one ivory arm around his
neck, and smiled sweetly. After about a minute, during which she was
apparently collecting her thoughts, she spoke in a low voice, and in
her native tongue.

"I have not sent for you before, Philip, for two reasons--first,
because I wished to spare you pain; and next, in order that I might
have time to rid my mind of angry thoughts against you. They are all
gone now--gone with every other earthly interest; but I _was_ angry
with you, Philip. And now listen to me--for I have not much time--and
do not forget my words in future years, when the story of my life will
seem but as a shadow that once fell upon your path. Change your ways,
Philip dear, abandon deceit, atone for the past; if you can, make your
peace with Maria Lee, and marry her--ah! it is a pity that you did not
do that at first, and leave me to go my ways--and, above all, humble
your heart before the Power that I am about to face. I love you, dear,
and, notwithstanding all, I am thankful to have been your wife. Please
God, we shall meet again."

She paused awhile, and then spoke in English. To the astonishment of
all, her voice was strong and clear, and she uttered her words with an
energy that, under the circumstances, seemed almost awful.

"Tell her to bring the child."

There was no need for Philip to repeat what she said, for Pigott heard
her, and at once came forward with the baby, which she laid beside
her.

The dying woman placed her hand upon its tiny head, and, turning her
eyes upwards with the rapt expression of one who sees a vision, said--

"May the power of God be about you to protect you, my motherless babe,
may angels guard you, and make you as they are; and may the heavy
curse and everlasting doom of the Almighty fall upon those who would
bring evil upon you."

She paused, and then addressed her husband.

"Philip, you have heard my words; in your charge I leave the child,
see that you never betray my trust."

Then, turning to Pigott, she said, in a fainter voice--

"Thank you for your kindness