"Don't say so. You and Mabel shall both be happy, I hope, long, long after----" he paused. "After what, darling?" "After all these sorrows have passed away," said he; and though it was not thus he had meant to close the sentence, Rose read his secret meaning in his mournful eyes. There were times when he lay quiet, breathing hard and shortly, but quite apathetic to all around him; and other times when he moaned and muttered of his broken and desolate home--a home now no more; of Cornwall, its moors and cliffs; of wanderings in Italy--the peaks of the Abruzzi and the banks of the Arno; of his parents and sister; of Rose--ever and anon it was Rose, and the day by the Lake of Istaliff; all oddly confused together, till the listener's heart was crushed, and she prayed on her knees, with bowed head, that he might be spared for her, or that, while her unfelt kisses were pressed upon his brow and cheek, she too might catch the same fever, and that they might die and be buried together under the green turf, outside the Afghan fort, where the acacia-trees were tossing their light, feathery foliage in the wind. So thus would the sleepless hours of many a weary night of watching pass away; the boom of brass cannon, mellowed by distance, would come from the far-off Bala Hissar, indicating that dawn was breaking, and pale Rose Trecarrel would know that the slow lingering hours of another day of heartless sorrow were before her. One noon, however, a little hope dawned in her breast! The Hakeem, Abu Malec, arrived with a stranger, whose fair European face belied his Afghan camise and brown leather boots. "A Feringhee doctor Sahib has come from Cabul," said Abu Malec, not without a spice of professional jealousy in his tone, while, to the infinite joy of Rose, he introduced Doctor C----, of the 54th Infantry, one of those gallant and devoted medical officers, who volunteered by lot cast on the drum-head, to remain behind in that place of peril, and attend to the wants of our sick and wounded soldiers; so now she devoutly hoped that Denzil would have some better treatment than that which resulted from mere superstition and a dogged belief in that fatalism which is eminently Mohammedan. The doctor, an old friend, greeted Rose kindly, and with genuine warmth--to exist was cause for congratulation then; next he turned to Denzil, and, after a brief examination, shook his head despondingly, to the intense satisfaction of the Hakeem, Abu Malec. CHAPTER XIV. WITH SALE'S BRIGADE. Since that ill-omened hour and time of dread excitement, when on the disastrous day in January the ladies and other hostages were handed over to Ackbar Khan, their friends and relatives even in Afghanistan knew nothing of their actual safety--who were living, who were dead, or who were mutilated or disgraced by insults worse than death, on the route towards Toorkistan; and now the beginning of September had come.