, stooping on one knee and catching at his hand.
'Dear master. Speak to me!'

The old man turned slowly towards him; and muttered in a hollow voice,

'This is another!--How many of these spirits there have been to-night!'

'No spirit, master. No one but your old servant. You know me now, I
am sure? Miss Nell--where is she--where is she?'

'They all say that!' cried the old man. 'They all ask the same
question. A spirit!'

'Where is she?' demanded Kit. 'Oh tell me but that,--but that, dear
master!'

'She is asleep--yonder--in there.'

'Thank God!'

'Aye! Thank God!' returned the old man. 'I have prayed to Him, many,
and many, and many a livelong night, when she has been asleep, He
knows. Hark! Did she call?'

'I heard no voice.'

'You did. You hear her now. Do you tell me that you don't hear THAT?'

He started up, and listened again.

'Nor that?' he cried, with a triumphant smile, 'Can any body know that
voice so well as I? Hush! Hush!' Motioning to him to be silent, he
stole away into another chamber. After a short absence (during which
he could be heard to speak in a softened soothing tone) he returned,
bearing in his hand a lamp.

'She is still asleep,' he whispered. 'You were right. She did not
call--unless she did so in her slumber. She has called to me in her
sleep before now, sir; as I have sat by, watching, I have seen her lips
move, and have known, though no sound came from them, that she spoke of
me. I feared the light might dazzle her eyes and wake her, so I
brought it here.'

He spoke rather to himself than to the visitor, but when he had put the
lamp upon the table, he took it up, as if impelled by some momentary
recollection or curiosity, and held it near his face. Then, as if
forgetting his motive in the very action, he turned away and put it
down again.

'She is sleeping soundly,' he said; 'but no wonder. Angel hands have
strewn the ground deep with snow, that the lightest footstep may be
lighter yet; and the very birds are dead, that they may not wake her.
She used to feed them, Sir. Though never so cold and hungry, the timid
things would fly from us. They never flew from her!'

Again he stopped to listen, and scarcely drawing breath, listened for a
long, long time. That fancy past, he opened an old chest, took out
some clothes as fondly as if they had been living things, and began to
smooth and brush them with his hand.

'Why dost thou lie so idle there, d