the
strong man's ear. "Go on," cried Wait, rising upon his elbow; "I have
heard that before: tell me the rest."

"I have the good book here," replied Paul. "I am sure it will be
pleasant to you, sir, if you will let me read."

"Do so, boy; I used to know it well. An old friend taught those
strange words to me, but I have forgotten them now."

Paul read some soothing and beautiful Psalms, which took his
companion's mind back to his native mountains, and the white spire of
the village church where he had worshipped with his mother. The hard
lines melted in his face as he listened, but Paul fell upon a bitter
verse, and the agent's conscience began to trouble him. He could not
look into the boy's eyes, for they seemed to rebuke him, and at last
he commanded Paul to stop.

It was midnight. They heard the great clock in the hall strike twelve,
and all the household slumbered.

"Go to your mistress's room," said Wait; "tell her that I must see her
_now_--she must come at once. The morning may never come to me. Go;
God bless you!"

He called Paul back when he had got to the door, and added
falteringly:

"My boy, do you say your prayers?"

"Yes, sir."

"Would you mind thinking of me when you say them to-night?"

"I do so every night, sir."

"Good-night!"

Paul heard the agent sobbing as he stole away; but when he knocked at
Mrs. Everett's door she answered petulantly, and at first she refused
to rise. She had little self-denial; it would pain her to enter a
dying chamber; and she would have left Wait to perish, had not some
strange passage from the romance entered her head of dead folk, with
secrets on their minds, haunting the living. It would be very terrible
to be haunted, and the old woman was frightened into obedience. When
she returned her mind was disquieted, and she made Paul stay in her
room to compose her with cheerful talk. Finally she fell asleep, and
he hastened to the agent's chamber. It was very dark within, and he
waited a moment that the other might recognize him. Wait seemed to be
in deep slumber, though Paul could not hear him breathe; but as the
lad ventured to place his head upon the quilt, it encountered a hand
so cold and hard that it seemed to be marble. Paul knew that he need
no longer remember his enemy in his prayers.

What transpired between his mistress and her agent at this dying
interview Paul could not surmise, but he believed that it concerned
himself. He perceived that Mrs.