His baby-mouth was pouted full; the dark
lashes of his eyes seemed to lie on his plump cheeks. Richard stooped
lower down to him, hungering for some movement as a sign that he lived.
Lucy whispered. "He sleeps like you, Richard--one arm under his head."
Great wonder, and the stir of a grasping tenderness was in Richard. He
breathed quick and soft, bending lower, till Lucy's curls, as she nestled
and bent with him, rolled on the crimson quilt of the cot. A smile went
up the plump cheeks: forthwith the bud of a mouth was in rapid motion.
The young mother whispered, blushing: "He's dreaming of me," and the
simple words did more than Richard's eyes to make him see what was. Then
Lucy began to hum and buzz sweet baby-language, and some of the tiny
fingers stirred, and he made as if to change his cosy position, but
reconsidered, and deferred it, with a peaceful little sigh. Lucy
whispered: "He is such a big fellow. Oh! when you see him awake he is so
like you, Richard."

He did not hear her immediately: it seemed a bit of heaven dropped there
in his likeness: the more human the fact of the child grew the more
heavenly it seemed. His son! his child! should he ever see him awake? At
the thought, he took the words that had been spoken, and started from the
dream he had been in. "Will he wake soon, Lucy?"

"Oh no! not yet, dear: not for hours. I would have kept him awake for
you, but he was so sleepy."

Richard stood back from the cot. He thought that if he saw the eyes of
his boy, and had him once on his heart, he never should have force to
leave him. Then he looked down on him, again struggled to tear himself
away. Two natures warred in his bosom, or it may have been the Magian
Conflict still going on. He had come to see his child once and to make
peace with his wife before it should be too late. Might he not stop with
them? Might he not relinquish that devilish pledge? Was not divine
happiness here offered to him?--If foolish Ripton had not delayed to tell
him of his interview with Mountfalcon all might have been well. But pride
said it was impossible. And then injury spoke. For why was he thus base
and spotted to the darling of his love? A mad pleasure in the prospect of
wreaking vengeance on the villain who had laid the trap for him, once
more blackened his brain. If he would stay he could not. So he resolved,
throwing the burden on Fate. The struggle was over, but oh, the pain!

Lucy beheld the tears streaming hot from h