to --------; it is the nearest telegraph station."

Darrell did not stir from Waife's bedside all that anxious eight. Dr.
F------ arrived at morning. He approved of all that had been done, but
nevertheless altered the treatment; and after staying some hours, said
to Darrell: "I am compelled to leave you for the present, nor could I
be of use in staying. I have given all the aid in my power to Nature--we
must leave the rest to Nature herself. That fever--those fierce throes
and spasms--are but Nature's efforts to cast off the grasp of the enemy
we do not see. It now depends on what degree of rallying power be left
to the patient. Fortunately his frame is robust, yet not plethoric. Do
you know his habits?"

"I know," answered George--"most temperate, most innocent."

"Then, with constant care, minute attention to my directions, he may
recover."

"If care and attention can save my guest's life, he shall not die," said
Darrell.

The physician looked at the speaker's pale face and compressed lips.
"But, Mr. Darrell, I must not have you on my hands too. You must not be
out of your bed again tonight."

"Certainly not," said George. "I shall watch alone."

"No," cried Lionel, "that is my post too."

"Pooh!" said Darrell; "young men so far from Death are not such watchful
sentinels against his stroke as men of my years, who have seen him in
all aspects; and, moreover, base indeed in the host who deserts his own
guest's sick-chamber. Fear not for me, doctor; no man needs sleep less
than I do."

Dr. F------ slid his hand on Darrell's pulse. "Irregular--quick; but
what vitality! what power!--a young man's pulse. Mr. Darrell, many years
for your country's service are yet in these lusty beats."

Darrell breathed his chronic sigh, and turning back to Waife's bedside,
said to the doctor, "When will you come again?"

"The day after to-morrow."

When the doctor returned, Waife was out of immediate danger. Nature,
fortified by the "temperate, innocent habits" which husband up her
powers, had dislodged, at least for a time, her enemy; but the attack
was followed by extreme debility. It was clear that for days, perhaps
even weeks to come, the vagrant must remain a prisoner under Darrell's
roof-tree.

Lionel had been too mindful of Sophy's anxiety to neglect writing to
Lady Montfort the day after Waife's seizure. But he could not find the
heart to state the old man's danger; and with the sanguine tendencies of
his young natu