"If care and attention can save my guest's life, he shall not die," said
Darrell.

The physician looked at the speaker's pale face and compressed lips.
"But, Mr. Darrell, I must not have you on my hands too. You must not be
out of your bed again tonight."

"Certainly not," said George. "I shall watch alone."

"No," cried Lionel, "that is my post too."

"Pooh!" said Darrell; "young men so far from Death are not such watchful
sentinels against his stroke as men of my years, who have seen him in all
aspects; and, moreover, base indeed in the host who deserts his own
guest's sick-chamber. Fear not for me, doctor; no man needs sleep less
than I do."

Dr. F------ slid his hand on Darrell's pulse. "Irregular--quick; but
what vitality! what power!--a young man's pulse. Mr. Darrell, many years
for your country's service are yet in these lusty beats."

Darrell breathed his chronic sigh, and turning back to Waife's bedside,
said to the doctor, "When will you come again?"

"The day after to-morrow."

When the doctor returned, Waife was out of immediate danger. Nature,
fortified by the "temperate, innocent habits" which husband up her
powers, had dislodged, at least for a time, her enemy; but the attack was