and the straggling rays of the misty morning's sun crossing one another,
until "Potts" stole down with her slippers under her arm, and in her
bewilderment at the sight of the gas-light, put her head in at the door.

When she saw her master's firm, set face and vacant eyes, and the
letters laying around the floor, her heart gave a bound, and she
screamed outright.

Henry Rayne raised his head, rubbed his eyes, and tried to stretch his
limbs, now numb with the damp dullness of the night. Potts had run to
him and was asking the "matter," with dilated eyes and anxious voice.

"Don't be afraid, Potts," he said at last, "I have been reading a very
very strange letter, and I forgot the hours, I will go and lie down now;
don't make any fuss about it, and I'll tell you the important news after
breakfast."

Poor Potts went off to the kitchen shaking her head as usual, and
murmuring to herself all the while, such exclamations as "Well, well
now." "That's quare now." "Well to be sure." It was with her brain quite
in a whirl that she went about her morning duties, wondering very much
what could have come over her master, to make him forget to go to bed.
When Fitts came in at the back door, with an armful of wood, Mrs. Potts
could not conceal her gratification at having been the first to discover
the secret, and she rattled on (to herself, as it were) with her back
turned to Fitts, "Well shure 'tis the quarest thing in life--all through
the night, too; dear, oh dear! Such a life's enough to turn one gray in
no time."

"What have you there all to yourself now, dear Mrs. Potts," came from