go up and speak to her?”

    “O is not likely; and no is time for you to come in; you’ll catcop out whe dew is falling.”

    t door; I  in by trance  in time; it o go to bed.

    It mig silence of tory, t my companions  in profound repose—rose softly, put on my frock over my nig s from tment, and set off in quest of Miss temple’s room. It e at t I kne of tering  passage o find it  difficulty. An odour of camp vinegar  t up all nig back; for I must see  embrace  give  kiss, exc word.

    aircase, traversed a portion of tting,  noise, teps; ted, and t opposite to me emple’s room. A ligillness pervaded ty. Coming near, I found tly ajar; probably to admit some freso to ate, and full of impatient impulses—soul and senses quivering  it back and looked in. My eye sougo find death.

    Close by Miss temple’s bed, and s ains, tood a little crib. I saline of a form under t to in t in an easy-c dimly on table. Miss temple  to be seen: I kneer so a delirious patient in tain, but I preferred speaking before I . I still recoiled at the dread of seeing a corpse.

    “ly, “are you awake?”

    Sirred  back tain, and I sa quite composed: stle c my fear antly dissipated.

    “Can it be you, Jane?” sle voice.

    “O, “s going to die; taken: s speak and look so calmly if she were.”

    I got on to ; but she smiled as of old.

    “ is past eleven o’clock: I  strike some minutes since.”

    “I came to see you,  sleep till I o you.”

    “You came to bid me good