“Father,” exclaimed a faint voice from the bed, at this moment. “Is that you, father?” and Jasper St. Aubyn opened his eyes, languid yet from the heavy slumber into which the opiate had cast him, and raised himself up a little on his pillow, though with a slow and painful motion.
“My son,” cried the old man, hurrying to the side of the bed, “my own boy, Jasper, how fare you now? You have slept well.”
“So well,” answered the bold boy, “that I feel strong enough, and clear enough in the head, to be up and about; but that whenever I would move a limb, there comes an accursed twinge to put me in mind that limestone rock is harder than bone and muscle.”
Meanwhile, as soon as the old cavalier’s attention was diverted by the awakening of his own son from his trance-like slumber, Durzil Bras-de-fer, as he called himself, and as I shall therefore call him, left the room quietly, and a few minutes afterward might have been seen, had not the eyes of those within the chamber been otherwise directed, to pass the casement, following the same path which had been taken by Theresa Allan a little while before.
[To be continued.
ELIM.
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BY VIRGINIA.
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