with struggling sighs,--his eyelids quivered,--and his before rigid hands relaxed and folded themselves together in an attitude of peace and prayer. Like a statue becoming slowly and magically flushed with life, the warm hues of the naturally flowing blood deepened through the whiteness of his skin,--his breathing grew more and more easy and regular,--his features gradually assumed their wonted appearance, and presently ... without any violent start or exclamation ... he awoke! But was it a real awakening? or rather a continuation of some strange impression received in slumber? He rose to his feet, pushing back the hair from his brow with an entranced look of listening wonderment--his eyes were humid yet brilliant--his whole aspect was that of one inspired. He paced once or twice up and down the room, but he was evidently unconscious of his surroundings--he seemed possessed by thoughts which absorbed his whole being. Presently he seated himself at the table, and absently fingering the writing materials that were upon it, he appeared meditatively to question their use and meaning. Then, drawing several sheets of paper toward him, he began to write with extraordinary rapidity and eagerness--his pen travelled on smoothly, uninterrupted by blot or erasure. Sometimes he paused--but when he did it was always with an upraised, attentively listening expression. Once he murmured aloud "ARDATH! Nay, I shall not forget!--we will meet at ARDATH!" and again he resumed his occupation. Page after page he covered with close writing-no weak, uncertain scrawl, but a firm bold, neat caligraphy,--his own peculiar, characteristic hand. The sun mounted higher and higher in the heavens, ... hour after hour passed, and still lie wrote on, apparently unaware of the flitting time. At mid-day the bell, which had not rung since early dawn, began to swing quickly to and fro in the chapel turret,--the deep bass of the organ breathed on the silence a thunderous monotone, and a bee-like murmur of distant voices proclaimed the words: "Angelas Domine nuntiavit Mariae." At the first sound of this chant, the spell that enchained Alwyn's mind was broken; drawing a quick dashing line under what he had written, he sprang up erect and dropped his pen. "Heliobas!" he cried loudly, "Heliobas! WHERE IS THE FIELD OF ARDATH?" His voice seemed strange and unfamiliar to his own ears,--he waited, listening, and the chant went on--"Et Verbo caro factus est, et habitavit in nobis." Suddenly, as if he could endure his solitude no longer, he rushed to the door and threw it open, thereby nearly flinging himself against Heliobas, who was entering the room at the same moment. He drew back, ... stared wildly, and passing his hand across his forehead confusedly, forced a laugh. "I have been dreaming!" he said, ... then with a passionate gesture he added, "God! if the dream were true!"