Hew was still watching without, and unnoticed by the crowds that passed and repassed in the lighted street below. His heart was full of the bitterest rancour, envy, and rage. His mind was full of a species of madness--but a madness with a great deal of method and cunning in it. He peeped in from time to time at the sleeper, with a gleam of intense malice in his stealthy eyes. Cecil was alone and unattended, and he lay there apart from all, and quite unheeded amid the bustle of the great hotel. 'There is not much life left in the fellow,' muttered Hew; 'a good shake--a squeeze of the windpipe, or a few more drops in his drink than I gave him at the ball, and Eaglescraig is mine!' The door of the apartment was shut--if he would act, it must be done promptly. He would enter and leave the room by the French window, and after all was over, leave the balcony by another apartment, and repair at once to his usual scene of work, the billiard-room. A blindness and giddiness, with a great terror, came over him for a moment; as one in a dream, he looked at the crowds passing below--the stars above; gave a last glance to assure himself that his avenue of escape was clear, and then with a heart beating wildly, fired as it was by envy, avarice, malice, and all uncharitableness, he again drew near the window of Cecil's room and laid his stealthy hand upon it; but, as he did so, a deep hoarse malediction escaped in a kind of whisper, and shrinking back he stole softly away with all speed, and quitted the balcony--for he had seen a tableau that baffled his vengeance, and no doubt saved his soul from the perpetration of a terrible crime! A little delay might have changed the fate of more than one person connected with our story; a great tragedy might have taken place almost without discovery, for had aught occurred to Cecil, it might have been attributed to his wounded and weak condition--so near was the prediction of Palenka being verified, not on the field of battle or in the carnage of charging squadrons, but in the quietude and seclusion, of a fashionable hotel! From the latter, the amiable Hew took his departure on the instant, and it is very unlikely that he will ever cross the path of Cecil again. Dreams are usually independent of all details and coherency; but Cecil, as he dozed on, seemed to become gradually aware of the dear and familiar face, of one who smiled gently upon him, as she bent over him--her very life--her treasure, and delicious was the thrill the dream gave him. The sense of a beloved presence became more vivid and defined. He heard his name called, and started to find Mary stooping over him, her veil thrown back, and her eyes--soft and loving at all times--softer now with an infinite yearning, as she saw how weak he was, and how hard had been the struggle between youth and Death!