ll the air in it profited a little by the high
sun; and he awoke, not only less weary, but warmer. But, alas! he awoke
also hungry.

He stood up and stretched himself: and, seeing that two-thirds of the
second candle had burned away while he slept, he was thankful that he
had lit it. He tried to put away the visions of hot bacon, cold round,
and sweet brown bread that rose before him; he smiled, indeed,
considering how much more hungry he would be by-and-by, this
evening--and to-morrow. He wondered ruefully how far they would carry
it: and, on that, mind got the better of body, and he forgot his
appetite in a thought more engrossing.

Would she come? Every twenty-four hours, her letter said, a person
would visit him, to learn if his will had yielded to theirs. Would she
be the person? Would she who had so wronged him have the courage to
confront him? And, if she did, how would she carry it off? It was
wonderful with what interest, nay, with what agitation, he dwelt on
this. How would she look? how would she bear herself? how would she
meet his eye? Would the shame she ought to feel make itself seen in her
carriage, or would her looks and her mien match the arrogance of her
letter? Would she shun his gaze, or would she face it without
flinching, with a steady colour and a smiling lip? And, if the latter
were the case, would it be the same when hours and days of fasting had
hollowed his cheeks, and given to his eyes the glare which he had seen
in many a wretched peasant's eyes in those distant lands? Would she
still be able to face that sight without flinching, to view his
sufferings without a qualm, and turn, firm in her cruel purpose, from
the dumb pleading of his hunger?

"God forbid!" he cried. "Ah! God forbid!"

And he prayed that, rather than that, rather than have that last proof
of the hardness of the heart that dwelt in that fair shape, he might
not see her at all. He prayed that, rather than that, she might not
come; though--so weak are men--that she might come, and he might see
how she bore herself, and how she carried off his knowledge of her
treason--was now the one interest he had, the one thought, prospect,
hope that had power to lighten the time, and keep at bay--though noon
was long past, and he had fasted twenty-four hours--the attacks of
hunger!

The thought possessed him to an extraordinary extent. Would she come?
And would he see her? Or, having lured him by that Judas letter into
his enemies'