After bathing his temples and chafing his hands, she had the satisfaction, ere long, of seeing him open his eyes.

At first, he seemed to have a difficulty in fixing his gaze upon her, but her voice reached his ears, and the feeble pressure of his hand told that he knew her.
The power of speech returned to him at length, and he faintly murmured, "My child, I am glad to see you once more.

I thought all was over; but it has pleased Heaven to spare me for a few moments to give you my blessing.

Bow down your head, O my daughter, and take it; and though given by a sinner like myself, it shall profit you! May the merciful God, who pardoneth all that repent, even at the last hour, and watcheth over the orphan, bless you, and protect you!" "Amen!" exclaimed Jocelyn, fervently.
"Who was it spoke ?" demanded the Puritan.

And as no answer was returned, he repeated the inquiry.
"It was I--Jocelyn Mounchensey, the son of your old friend," replied the young man.
"Come nigh to me, Jocelyn," said the dying man.