The final word was simply an exhalation. She slumbered profoundly, breathing stertorously at first, but swiftly relapsing into perfect calm. The trance had begun. The portals of eternity seemed to be widening. The solemnity of the moment was supreme.
Morton's features became rigid as he watched; his haggard eyes started from their sockets and the drops of an icy sweat pearled upon his brow. He had longed for this moment, and yet, now that it was his, he would have given his immortal soul to have been able to play the coward and escape the consequences.
In fact he did withdraw his hands from the slight grasp, but in the next moment he was held spell-bound, for Margaret Revaleon was speaking in that weirdly vaticinal tone.
"Who speaks? Who are you?" gasped Morton, once more grasping the outstretched hands.
"Her father. You should know me. I am Sidney—Sidney—"
"Sidney Effingham!"
"Yes, and I am called back to earth in spite of myself. There is trouble here among those I dearly love, and I am pained, disturbed in my happiness."
"Your widow and son are well," murmured Morton, profoundly awed by the impressive tone of the presence.
"Yes, yes; but Romaine! my daughter, where is she? She is no longer with her mother."