As I looked and wondered, there began to steal over me again that phase of wandering thought which had last night heralded the approach of sleep.

I resisted it, and held myself sternly to the present.

This was easier to do when Miss Trelawny came close to me, and, leaning her forehead against my shoulder, began to cry silently.

Then all the manhood in me woke, and to present purpose.

It was of little use trying to speak; words were inadequate to thought.