and bent over him.

"It's air we want, both you and I!" he muttered. Christian beckoned to
the nurse, and stole out through the window.

A regiment was passing in the road; she stood half-hidden amongst the
lilac bushes watching. The poplar leaves drooped lifeless and almost
black above her head, the dust raised by the soldiers' feet hung in
the air; it seemed as if in all the world no freshness and no life were
stirring. The tramp of feet died away. Suddenly within arm's length of
her a man appeared, his stick shouldered like a sword. He raised his
hat.

"Good-evening! You do not remember me? Sarelli. Pardon! You looked like
a ghost standing there. How badly those fellows marched! We hang, you
see, on the skirts of our profession and criticise; it is all we are fit
for." His black eyes, restless and malevolent like a swan's, seemed to
stab her face. "A fine evening! Too hot. The storm is wanted; you feel
that? It is weary waiting for the storm; but after the storm, my dear
young lady, comes peace." He smiled, gently, this time, and baring his
head again, was lost to view in the shadow of the trees.

His figure had seemed to Christian like the sudden vision of a
threatening, hidden force. She thrust out her hands, as though to keep
it off.

No use; it was within her, nothing could keep it away! She went to Mrs.
Decie's room, where her aunt and Miss Naylor were conversing in low
tones. To hear their voices brought back the touch of this world of
everyday which had no part or lot in the terrifying powers within her.

Dawney slept at the Villa now. In the dead of night he was awakened by
a light flashed in his eyes. Christian was standing there, her face pale
and wild with terror, her hair falling in dark masses on her shoulders.

"Save him! Save him!" she cried. "Quick! The bleeding!"

He saw her muffle her face in her white sleeves, and seizing the candle,
leaped out of bed and rushed away.

The internal haemorrhage had come again, and Nicholas Treffry wavered
between life and death. When it had ceased, he sank into a sort of
stupor. About six o'clock he came back to consciousness; watching his
eyes, they could see a mental struggle taking place within him. At last
he singled Christian out from the others by a sign.

"I'm beat, Chris," he whispered. "Let him know, I want to see him."

His voice grew a little stronger. "I thought that I could see it
through--but here's the end." He lifted his hand ever so litt