had justified his persecution. He saw the glory
of Guy's character and the part he had acted,--the scales of
self-admiration fell from his eyes, and he knew both himself and his
cousin.

His sole comfort was in hope for the future, and in devising how his
brotherly affection should for the rest of his life testify his altered
mind, and atone for past ill-will. This alone kept him from being
completely crushed,--for he by no means imagined how near the end was,
and the physician, willing to spare himself pain, left him in hopes,
though knowing how it would be. He slept but little, and was very
languid in the morning; but he rose as soon as Arnaud came to him, in
order not to occupy Arnaud's time, as well as to be ready in case Guy
should send for him again, auguring well from hearing that there was
nothing stirring above, hoping this was a sign that Guy was asleep. So
hoped the two servants for a long time, but at length, growing alarmed,
after many consultations, they resolved to knock at the door, and learn
what was the state of things.

Philip likewise was full of anxiety, and coming to his room door to
listen for intelligence, it was the "e morto" of the passing Italians
that first revealed to him the truth. Guy dead, Amy widowed, himself
the cause--he who had said he would never be answerable for the death of
this young man.

Truly had Guy's threat, that he would make him repent, been fulfilled.
He tottered back to his couch, and sank down, in a burst of anguish
that swept away all the self-control that had once been his pride. There
Amabel found him stretched, face downwards, quivering and convulsed by
frightful sobs.

'Don't--don't, Philip,' said she, in her gentle voice. 'Don't cry so
terribly!'

Without looking up, he made a gesture with his hand, as if to drive her
away. 'Don't come here to reproach me!' he muttered.

'No, no; don't speak so. I want you to hear me; I have something for
you from him. If you would only listen, I want to tell you how happy and
comfortable it was.' She took a chair and sat down by him, relieved on
perceiving that the sobs grew a little less violent.

'It was very peaceful, very happy,' repeated she. 'We ought to be very
glad.'

He turned round, and glanced at her for a moment; but he could not bear
to see her quiet face. 'You don't know what you say,' he gasped. 'No;
take care of yourself, don't trouble yourself for such as me!'

'I must; he desired me,' said Amabel. 'Y