"'I think so; I hope so. Sleep; it will do you good.'
"'Thank you, Silvain.'
"She was seated on a hard bench, not conducive to repose; nevertheless she closed her eyes, and was almost immediately asleep.
"'Poor girl!' said Silvain, with a sigh, 'she has suffered much--and in a few weeks will become a mother.'
"We strolled up and down outside the inn and conversed.
"'You have behaved to us with true friendship,' he said; 'and yet you can see we are beggars. Are you prospering?'
"I am not rich,' I replied, 'but I can spare to a friend.'
"'We are making our way to Avicia's home, to the lighthouse upon which I saw her for the first time otherwise than in my dreams. I doubt whether you can turn aside the finger of Fate as I behold it, pointing downwards to a grave, but you can perhaps help us to cheat it for a short time.'
"'You speak strangely, Silvain; the ominous fears which oppress you may be bred by a disordered fancy.'
"'In our former intercourse,' was his reply, 'was my fancy ever disordered? I advanced nothing that was not afterwards proved; I made no pretence of accounting for the warnings I received; I make none now. I shudder to think of the future, not so much for my own sake as for Avicia's. Helpless, penniless, without a friend----'