pacing restlessly to and fro nearly ever since her son rode away.

With a smile of intense relief she waved her handkerchief as he came
clattering up the drive, and seeing her he answered with hat and hand.
He usually dismounted at the great hall door, but a sudden whim made him
ride along the wall that lay below the terrace, for he was a fine
horseman, and Mrs. Snowdon was looking from her window. As he
approached, the peacocks fled screaming, and one flew up just before the
horse's eyes as his master was in the act of dismounting. The spirited
creature was startled, sprang partway up the low, broad steps of the
terrace, and, being sharply checked, slipped, fell, and man and horse
rolled down together.

Never did those who heard it forget the cry that left Lady Treherne's
lips as she saw the fall. It brought out both guests and servants, to
find Octavia recklessly struggling with the frightened horse, and my
lady down upon the stones with her son's bleeding head in her arms.

They bore in the senseless, shattered body, and for hours tried
everything that skill and sciences could devise to save the young man's
life. But every effort was in vain, and as the sun set Sir Jasper lay
dying. Conscious at last, and able to speak, he looked about him with a
troubled glance, and seemed struggling with some desire that
overmastered pain and held death at bay.

"I want Maurice," he feebly said, at length.

"Dear lad, I'm here," answered his cousin's voice from a seat in the
shadow of the half-drawn curtains.