and, and slept the dreamless sleep of a child.

He slept until the gray dawn of Christmas day stole into the room,
and showed him the figure of his friend, a shape of glorious light,
standing by his side, and gazing at him with large and tender eyes!
He had no fear. All was deep, serene, and happy with the happiness of
heaven. Looking up into that beautiful, wan face,--so tranquil,--so
radiant; watching, with a childlike awe, the star-fire in those shadowy
eyes; smiling faintly, with a great, unutterable love thrilling
slowly through his frame, in answer to the smile of light that shone
upon the phantom countenance; so he passed a space of time which
seemed a calm eternity, till, at last, the communion of spirit
with spirit--of mortal love with love immortal--was perfected,
and the shining hands were laid on his forehead, as with a touch
of air. Then the phantom smiled, and, as its shining hands were
withdrawn, the thought of his daughter mingled in the vision. She
was bending over him! The dawn, the room, were the same. But the
ghost of Feval had gone out from earth, away to its own land!

"Father, dear father! Your eyes were open, and they did not look at
me. There is a light on your face, and your features are changed!
What is it,--what have you seen?"

"Hush, darling: here--kneel by me, for a little while, and be still.
I have seen the dead."

She knelt by him, burying her awe-struck face in his bosom, and
clung to him with all the fervor of her soul. He clasped her to
his breast, and for minutes all was still.

"Dear child, good and dear child!"

The voice was tremulous and low. She lifted her fair, bright
countenance, now convulsed with a secret trouble, and dimmed with
streaming tears, to his, and gazed on him. His eyes were shining;
but his pallid cheeks, like hers, were wet with tears. How still
the room was! How like a thought of solemn tenderness the pale
gray dawn! The world was far away, and his soul still wandered
in the peaceful awe of his dream. The world was coming back to
him,--but oh! how changed!--in the trouble of his daughter's face.

"Darling, what is it? Why are you here? Why are you weeping? Dear
child, the friend of my better days,--of the boyhood when I had
noble aims, and life was beautiful before me,--he has been here! I
have seen him. He has been with me--oh! for a good I cannot tell!"

"Father, dear father!"--he had risen, and sat upon the couch, but she
still knelt before him, w