His face, where the hand of death was already visible, had more of its original beauty than Mr.Strafford had ever seen on it before; and as he came near to the bedside, he for the first time began to comprehend, what had always till now been an enigma to him, why Mary Wynter had loved and married her husband.
Christian roused himself little when he perceived his visitor, and Mr.
Strafford seized the opportunity of speaking to him on the subject of his imprisonment, as a step towards the great news he had to tell.
"You will be glad," he said, "when you can go away from here.

It will be very soon now, perhaps." "No," was the answer.

"I do not want to go now.

If they could take away a large piece of that wall," he went on dreamily, "so that I could breathe and see the sky, that is all I care for now." "You would like, however, to know that you _can_ go away when you please ?" Christian looked at him earnestly.
"But it is a prison," he said.

"How do you mean, that I can go away ?" "Do you recollect why you were brought here ?" "Yes.