and fixed in a dreadful stare.

"I come! I come!" he cried, in a strange, muffled voice; and with a
rapidity and energy of which no one would have believed him capable who
had seen him lifted from the horse an hour before, he rose and strove to
push aside his father's detaining hand.

The old man uttered a bitter cry, and flung his arms about the boy.

"It has come! it has come! I knew it would. There is no hope, none! He
is theirs, body and soul. He will go back to them, and they will --"

The words were drowned in a wild cry, as the boy struggled so fiercely
that it was plain even the old man's frenzied strength would not suffice
to detain him long. Father Paul and the monk who was assisting him with
John could not move without allowing the bleeding to recommence. But
Raymond was standing by disengaged, and the keen eyes of the Father
fixed themselves upon his face. He had heard a brief sketch of the
rescue of Roger as the boy had been undressed and laid in the bed, and
now he said, in accents of quiet command,

"Take the crucifix that hangs at my girdle, and lay it upon his brow.
Bid him lie down once again -- adjure him in the name of the Holy Jesus.
It is not earthly force that will prevail here. We may save him but by
the Name that is above every name. Go!"

Again over Raymond's senses there stole that sense of mystic unreality,
or to speak more truly, the sense of the reality of the unseen over the
seen things about and around us that men call mysticism, but which may
be something widely different; and with it came that quickening of the