CHAPTER XXVII.
NIGHT HAPPENINGS.
He stopped, paralyzed into rigidity for the instant, and a sobbing voice broke upon him,
"Oh, if I could only know! Is she yours, or not? Why can't you come out of space and answer me? I would have given my heart's blood for you, yet it seems as if, all the time, I must seem to take yours. What was Rachel to you, Will? Answer! Answer!"
The cry was almost a shriek, but Dalton knew the voice, and, after the instant's dazed astonishment, comprehended the scene. His first impulse, which he would have acted upon a few weeks since, was to steal away undetected; his second, born of his own sadness to-night, was to stay and help the poor fellow, if he could. He took a step forward, and spoke softly,
"Dan!"
The boy sat up with a sudden jerk, and gazed at him, wide-eyed, white as the froth in the stream's eddies.
"Will!" he whispered. "Have you come at last?"
"No, no, Dan! It's I, Dalton. I just happened here, or possibly I was sent. How do we know, but Will directed me here? My poor boy, let me sit beside you and tell you something. May I?"