But Bessee, awakening with a cry of joy, saw her borne, and struggled to go to her father, whose name she called on with all her might, disregarding the caresses of the old woman, and the endeavour made by Richard to restrain without alarming her, while Sir Robert went into the hut to endeavour to restore the sufferer. Suddenly a cry broke from within; and Richard, turning at the voice, beheld the blind man sitting up on his pallet with arms outstretched. “My child!—My Father! hast thou brought her to visit me in limbo?” he cried. “He raves!” said Richard, using his strength to withhold the child, who broke out into a shriek. “Nay, nay! she doth not abide here!” he exclaimed. “Her spirit is pure! My sins are not visited on her beyond the grave!” “Thou art on the earthly side of the grave still, my son,” said Sir Robert, at the same time as Bessee sprang from Richard, and nestled on his breast, clinging to his neck. “My babe—my Bessee!” he exclaimed, gathering her close to him. “Living, living, indeed! Yet how may it be! Surely this is the other world. That voice sounds not among the living!” “It is the voice of the youth who saved thy child,” said the Grand Prior. “Speak again! Let him speak again!” implored the beggar. “Can I do aught for you, good man?” asked Richard. Again there was a strange start and thrill of amazement. “Only for Heaven’s sake tell me who thou art!” “A page of Prince Edward’s good man. I am called Richard Fowen! And who, for Heaven’s sake, are you?” added Richard, as Leonillo, who had been smelling about and investigating, threw himself on the blind man in a transport of caresses. “Off, Leon—off!” cried Richard. “It is but a dog!—Fear not, little one!—Tell me, tell me,” he added, trembling, as he knelt before the miserable object, holding back the eager Leonillo with one arm round his neck, “who art thou, thou ghost of former times?” “Knowst me not, Richard?” returned a suppressed voice in Provençal. “Henry! Henry!” exclaimed Richard, and fell upon the foot of the low bed, weeping bitterly. “Is it come to this?” “Ay, even to this,” said the blind man, “that two sons of one father meet unknown—one with a changed name, the other with none at all, neither with the honoured one they were born to.”