tered
himself would pass away. He sat with her and talked more than had been
his custom. She seemed to grow better in his eyes, for he had seen how
uncomplaining she was, and how she nobly struggled to make his burden
lighter. She spoke encouraging words of Virginia, told him of his wife
and children, who had been described so often to her that she had a
faithful picture of them in her mind. She would say:

"Your little Rebecca is now sixteen years of age, quite a young lady.
She is beautiful, too. I know she is beautiful, for she has the dark
eyes and hair of her mother."

"Blanche, beauty is not confined to black eyes and hair alone," said
John.

She went on:

"And your little boy is a man now, twenty years of age, and he is no
doubt strong, brave, gallant and noble. Surely you must be proud of such
a son. Your wife has grown more wise with her distress, and she still
looks to the ocean for the return of one for whom she will wait until
the angel of death summons her to meet him in Heaven."

"Blanche, Blanche, how strangely you talk!"

"I fancy I can see them, and they are happy in their little home. The
son supports his mother. Oh, they are happy!"

"Blanche, Blanche, your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are unnaturally
bright; you have a fever."

She laughingly answered:

"It is only a slight cold, the result of our visit to the peak of old
Snow-Top."

He administered such simple remedies as they had at hand, tucked her up
warmly in bed and sat by her side until she was asleep. Then he made a
bed on the floor in the adjoining room, where he might be within call,
and lay down to sleep. Being wearied with the toils of the day, he was
soon asleep, and it was after midnight when he was awakened by a cough
from Blanche's bed. It was followed by an exclamation of pain.

In a moment he was at her side.

"What is the matter, Blanche?" he asked, uneasily.

"I have a pain in my side."

He stooped over her, put his hand on her face and was startled to find
it so dry and hot. Groping about he found a rude lamp, which he had
fashioned from an old pewter pot brought from the wreck. Within the lamp
was a wick made from the lint of wild hemp, fed with goat's fat. Seizing
his flint and steel he kindled a light and found Blanche in a
raging fever.

"Blanche, Blanche, you are ill!" said John.

"I am so hot, I burn with thirst," she answered.

"You shall have water." There was a spring of clear, cold water flowing