send me this one
more poor human soul; let me change its unrestfulness into repose, its
hesitation to certainty, its weakness to strength, its weary
imprisonment to the light of liberty! Azul!"

His voice ceases, his extended hands fall slowly, and gradually,
gradually he turns his whole figure towards ME. He faces me--his
intense eyes burn through me--his strange yet tender smile absorbs me.
Yet I am full of unreasoning terror; I tremble--I strive to turn away
from that searching and magnetic gaze. His deep, melodious tones again
ring softly on the silence. He addresses me.

"Fearest thou me, my child? Am I not thy friend? Knowest thou not the
name of HELIOBAS?"

At this word I start and gasp for breath; I would shriek, but cannot,
for a heavy hand seems to close my mouth, and an immense weight presses
me down. I struggle violently with this unseen Power--little by little
I gain the advantage. One effort more! I win the victory--I wake!

* * * * *

"Sakes alive!" says a familiar voice; "you HAVE had a spell of sleep! I
got home about two, nearly starving, and I found you here curled up 'in
a rosy infant slumber,' as the song says. So I hunted up the Colonel
and had lunch, for it seemed a sin to disturb you. It's just struck
four. Shall we have some tea up here?"

I looked at Mrs. Everard, and smiled assent. So I had been sleeping for
two hours and a half, and I had evidently been dreaming all the time;
but my dreams had been as vivid as realities. I felt still rather
drowsy, but I was thoroughly rested and in a state of delicious
tranquillity. My friend rang the bell for the tea, and then turned
round and surveyed me with a sort of wonder.

"What have you done to yourself, child?" she said at last, approaching
the bed where I lay, and staring fixedly at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, you look a different creature. When I left you this morning you
were pale and haggard, a sort of die-away delicate invalid; now your
eyes are bright; and your cheeks have quite a lovely colour in them;
your lips, too, are the right tint. But perhaps," and here she looked
alarmed--"perhaps you've got the fever?"

"I don't think so," I said amusedly, and I stretched out my hand for
her to feel.

"No, you haven't," she continued, evidently reassured; "your palm is
moist and cool, and your pulse is regular. Well, you look spry, anyhow.
I shouldn't wonder if you made up your mind to have a dance to-nigh