So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. “I am going to fetch some things that will be wanted if he pulls through the next hour. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream.
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