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All things, however, were in their places; all was quiet; and he

lay asleep, his white hair picturesque on the untroubled pillow,

and his hands lying quiet on the coverlet. She put her needless

candle in the shadow at a distance, crept up to his bed, and put

her lips to his; then, leaned over him, and looked at him.

Into his handsome face, the bitter waters of captivity had worn;

but, he covered up their tracks with a determination so strong,

that he held the mastery of them even in his sleep. A more

remarkable face in its quiet, resolute, and guarded struggle with

an unseen assailant, was not to be beheld in all the wide

dominions of sleep, that night.