So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. I'll try to think better of him in future. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. I will tell you this much, because you have been kind. He changed his mind however, and simply motioned to her to proceed.
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