"You are not alone," returned the ruffian sullenly; "I am here; and some one else is here whom you cannot see."
"Whom do you mean?"
"The devil, to be sure," responded her brother. "He is always near us; but never more near than in the hour of death and the day of judgment."
"Good Lord, deliver us!" said the girl, repeating unconsciously aloud part of the liturgy of the Church to which nominally she belonged.
"All in good time," responded the human fiend. "Has father shown any sign of returning sense since the morning?"
"No, he has remained just in the same state. William, will he die?"
"You may be sure of that, Mary. Living men never look as he does now."
"It is a terrible sight," said his sister. "I always did hope that I should die before father; but since I got into this trouble I have wished that he might never live to know it. That was sin, William. See how my wicked thoughts have become prophecy. Yet I am so glad that he never found out my crime, that it makes the tears dry in my eyes to see him thus."
"You make too much fuss about your condition, girl! What is done cannot be undone. All you can now do is to turn it to the best possible account."
"What do you mean, William?"