Burgo's Romance

by T. W. Speight

One o'clock came almost before he was aware of it. So far the time had passed swiftly, and yet he had not read a page. He got up and passed lightly into the other room. He had done so twice before, each time to find his uncle still sleeping as calmly as a little child. Nor was he yet awake. But while Burgo was still standing by his bedside, looking down upon him and saying to himself: "Is this mysterious illness, this sudden break-up of his constitution, due to natural causes, or is there a hidden hand at the bottom of it?" Sir Everard opened his eyes.

For a moment or two he stared up at Burgo as he might have done at a stranger; then there came a flash of recognition. "You! my boy," he exclaimed. "I've been dreaming about you. So glad!--so glad!" Then he held out both his bands. "Help me to sit up," he added.

No sooner had he been helped into a sitting position than he began to cast apprehensive glances, first on one side of the bed, and then on the other. "You are sure she is not in the room?" he whispered.

"Who--her ladyship?" Sir Everard nodded. "No; there is no one here but our two selves," replied Burgo.

"No one behind the curtains, eh?" The bed was of the kind termed Arabian, with a canopy and curtains at the head of it.

"You and I are alone in the room, uncle, I assure you."

"And that door is close shut?" pointing to the one which led to his wife's apartments, the portière covering which, just then, was only half drawn.

Burgo crossed the room and satisfied himself on the point. Half hidden as it was by the portière, it might have been open for the space of an inch or two without his being aware of it. He pressed it lightly with his hand. "It is close shut," he said, as he went back, and therewith he proceeded to pour into a glass his uncle's prescribed dose of medicine and add to it the requisite quantity of water. Sir Everard drank it off without a word, but not without the silent protest of a wry face.

After that he lay back for a little while with closed eyes, his lips moving silently as though he were communing with himself. Then opening his eyes and seeing Burgo standing by his bedside, he took hold of one of his hands and pressed it in both his own. "Do you know, my boy," he said, "I feel stronger, better, and brighter in every way to-night than I have any time during the last three weeks."

"I need scarcely assure you, uncle, how glad it makes me to hear you say so. From what you tell me, I presume that your worst times are during the night."