"Conyers!" exclaimed Vivian.

There was no answer, nor did the miserable man appear in the slightest
degree to be sensible of Vivian's presence.

"My good John!"

The man raised his head from his resting-place, and turned to the spot
whence the voice proceeded. There was such an unnatural fire in his
eyes, that Vivian's spirit almost quailed. His alarm was not decreased,
when he perceived that the master of the cottage did not recognize him.
The fearful stare was, however, short, and again the sufferer's face
was hid.

The wife was advancing, but Vivian waved his hand to her to withdraw,
and she accordingly fell into the background; but her fixed eye did not
leave her husband for a second.

"John Conyers, it is your friend, Mr. Vivian Grey, who is here," said
Vivian.

"Grey!" moaned the husbandman; "Grey! who is he?"

"Your friend, John Conyers. Do you quite forget me?" said Vivian
advancing, and with a tone "which Vivian Grey could alone assume.

"I think I have seen you, and you were kind," and the face was again
hid.

"And always will be kind, John. I have come to comfort you. I thought