n opportunity
to complete his speech, a sound, as of an avalanche and earthquake, all
in one, was heard--a shock, as of contending thunderbolts, shook the
train, and the last thing I saw was the head and body of Mr Jeeks
propelled, with the force and velocity of a rocket, against the
expansive countenance of Mr Shookers. My own forehead was dashed against
the opposite side, and I was insensible. There had been a collision
between two trains. I recollect no more.

CHAPTER V.

When I recovered my consciousness, I was in my own room at Rayleigh
Court. I looked round, and gradually a recollection of all that had
happened dawned upon me. I thought of my journey down--the conversation
between Mr Jeeks and Shookers--the new light that had been thrown on the
behaviour of the once cherished, but now, for the second time, detested
Lucy Ashton; and I turned round on the bed, and wished to relapse into
insensibility for ever. A light step at the side of the couch attracted
my notice. "Thank God," I heard a voice say, "my boy will live!" It was
my father. I turned round, and opened my eyes. He took my hand, and
looked at me a long, long time, with an expression of interest and
affection that I had not seen for many years.

"You are better, Henry, but don't exert yourself to speak. The slightest
effort may be fatal; therefore, for my sake, for all our sakes, be
quiet."

He sat down, and put his finger on his lips.

"In a day or two, now that your health has taken a favourable turn, you
will be able to able as many questions as you choose. In the mean time
be perfectly composed, and all will be well."

My father was in mourning.

"You are dressed in black," I whispered.

"We have lost a relation," he answered, "a distant relation; and we must
pay him the compliment of a black coat--but hush! my dear boy; if you
utter another word I must leave the room."

Under the care and uninterrupted attentions of my father, I rapidly got
well. In a week I could sit up; in a fortnight I moved into the library.
The sun was clear and warm. I sat at the open window, and looked out
upon the park, and beyond it to the tops of the trees in the Wilderness.
It gave me a blow that I could scarcely bear. I rose up and tottered to
the sofa. The weekly newspaper was lying on the table. I took it up, and
the first paragraph that met my eyes was this--"Married at Verbena
Lodge, on Wednesday last, Alfred Shookers, Esq. of Singapore, to
Elizabeth, th