"See that you don't, then," said Colville. The evening hours wore on to midnight, and the three watchers in the quiet room kept their places, undisturbed by even a breath from the pale form on the bed. The old crone sat wide awake and on the alert: Doctor Pratt leaned back and watched the patient through half-closed lids; Colville dozed in a large arm-chair. Surely there never was a patient who gave so little trouble to the nurses. No querulous complaint came from the pale lips, no restless hands tossed aside the bed-clothes, no fever-parched tongue cried out for the cooling draught of ice-water. Still and pale she lay through the panting summer night, taking no note of time or aught earthly. Hark! the midnight hour tolled solemnly and sharply. Mysterious hour when crime stalks abroad under shelter of darkness, when disembodied spirits re-visit the haunts of men! Colville started from his uneasy dozing, then settled himself again as the last loud stroke died away in hollow echoes. But he did not sleep again, for a simultaneous cry from the physician and the old woman turned his glance toward the bed. Ah! what was that? The awful spell of death was _broken_. The patient presented a ghastly appearance. Her large, blue eyes were wide open, and staring an indescribable look of horror at the witch-like face of the old woman. Her lips were slightly apart, and a thin stream of blood was trickling from her mouth and nostrils. "Begone," said the physician, sharply. "Bring warm water and sponges." She quickly returned with the necessary articles. Doctor Pratt gently sponged away the blood with warm water so as not to entirely check the bleeding. A long, deep sigh quivered over the patient's lips, and turning her head she looked languidly about her. Doctor Pratt made a sign to Colville and he hastily drew aside out of range of her vision. "Drink this wine, Lily," said the physician, putting a wine-glass to her lips. She feebly swallowed the contents, then closing her eyes with a languid sigh fell into a deep, refreshing sleep, breathing softly and audibly. He turned to Colville with a triumphant smile. "What about my theory _now_?" said he. Colville was trembling with excitement. He came forward, and looked at the face sleeping calmly on the pillow, its rigid lines softening into natural repose. "Surely, Pratt, you are in league with the devil," said he, half-fearfully. "An hour ago I could have sworn that it was grim death we looked upon, but now----" "But now," said Doctor Pratt, "she is doing well--she will soon recover. And then you can set about your wooing." "Ah!" said Colville, doubtfully. "I wish that your potent art could insure me her love as skillfully as you insured me her life!" The patient's deep slumber lasted till the rosy dawn of the summer morn began to break over the earth. Then the blue eyes opened with a look of bewilderment in their beautiful depths.