w morning," I resumed, "I want to speak to
you in private. We shall breakfast at eight o'clock. Is it asking
too much to beg you to come and see me alone in my study at half past
seven?"

Just as her lips opened to answer me I saw a change pass over her
face. I had kept her hand in mine while I was speaking, and I must have
pressed it unconsciously so hard as almost to hurt her. She may even
have uttered a few words of remonstrance; but they never reached me: my
whole hearing sense was seized, absorbed, petrified. At the very instant
when I had ceased speaking, I, and I alone, heard a faint sound--a sound
that was new to me--fly past the Glen Tower on the wings of the wind.

"Open the window, for God's sake!" I cried.

My hand mechanically held hers tighter and tighter. She struggled to
free it, looking hard at me with pale cheeks and frightened eyes. Owen
hastened up and released her, and put his arms round me.

"Griffith, Griffith!" he whispered, "control yourself, for George's
sake."

Morgan hurried to the window and threw it wide open.

The wind and rain rushed in fiercely. Welcome, welcome wind! They all
heard it now. "Oh, Father in heaven, so merciful to fathers on earth--my
son, my son!"

It came in, louder and louder with every gust of wind--the joyous, rapid
gathering roll of wheels. My eyes fastened on her as if they could see
to her heart, while she stood there with her sweet face turned on me all
pale and startled. I tried to speak to her; I tried to break away from
Owen's arms, to throw my own arms round her, to keep her on my bosom,
till _he_ came to take her from me. But all my strength had gone in the
long waiting and the long suspense. My head sank on Owen's breast--but
I still heard the wheels. Morgan loosened my cravat, and sprinkled water
over my face--I still heard the wheels. The poor terrified girl ran into
her room, and came back with her smelling-salts--I heard the carriage
stop at the house. The room whirled round and round with me; but I heard
the eager hurry of footsteps in the hall, and the opening of the door.
In another moment my son's voice rose clear and cheerful from below,
greeting the old servants who loved him. The dear, familiar tones just
poured into my ear, and then, the moment they filled it, hushed me
suddenly to rest.

When I came to myself again my eyes opened upon George. I was lying
on the sofa, still in the same room; the lights we had read by in the
evening were