THE RESCUE Shades of the dead, have I not heard your voices Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale ?--_Byron_ When I came to myself I was lying, not in the outer blackness of the Mohune vault, not on a floor of sand; but in a bed of sweet clean linen, and in a little whitewashed room, through the window of which the spring sunlight streamed.

Oh, the blessed sunshine, and how I praised God for the light! At first I thought I was in my own bed at my aunt's house, and had dreamed of the vault and the smugglers, and that my being prisoned in the darkness was but the horror of a nightmare.

I was for getting up, but fell back on my pillow in the effort to rise, with a weakness and sick languor which I had never known before.

And as I sunk down, I felt something swing about my neck, and putting up my hand, found 'twas Colonel John Mohune's black locket, and so knew that part at least of this adventure was no dream.
Then the door opened, and to my wandering thought it seemed that I was back again in the vault, for in came Elzevir Block.

Then I held up my hands, and cried-- 'O Elzevir, save me, save me; I am not come to spy.' But he, with a kind look on his face, put his hand on my shoulder, and pushed me gently back, saying-- 'Lie still, lad, there is none here will hurt thee, and drink this.' He held out to me a bowl of steaming broth, that filled the room with a savour sweeter, ten thousand times, to me than every rose and lily of the world; yet would not let me drink it at a gulp, but made me sip it with a spoon like any baby.