“How many days at the most will he live?”

“I cannot tell; God forbid that I should even guess.”

“Would you save his life?”

“Would I?—would I keep the breath in my own bosom?”

“Then you wish him to live?”

“Wish it, yes—heaven only knows how much!”

“Renegade!”

“What?”

“Nay,” he said, with a sudden change from ferocity to the most child-like tenderness, “let her know all—how can she judge?”

CHAPTER XLII.
VISIONS AND RETROSPECTIONS.