An hour—then another passed, and neither the sleeper nor the watcher stirred; when suddenly the old man opened his eyes, in full wakefulness, and his eyes rested on her. He looked at her steadily, but with growing estrangement; then a little hectic colour kindled in his pale face, and he turned his head away.
Then Bessie put her arm under his neck, and drew his head to her bosom, pressed it there, and kissed him, saying,
"My father! my dear, dear father!"
He drew a long and laboured breath, disengaged himself from her arms, and putting down his feet, sat up on the couch. She was kneeling before him, looking into his face.
"Go—" said he, after a while, "I have been hard with thee, Bess! I have done thee wrong."
She would have clasped and kissed him again, but he gently yet firmly put her from him, and yet—in so doing kept his eyes intently, questioningly, fixed on her. Was it to be—even as Luke said, that in losing Hall he was to find something he had not prized hitherto?
CHAPTER LIV. A DAISY.
As briefly as may be, we must give some account of the venture of Monmouth, which ended in such complete disaster.