"It is the voice of inspiration," said Thames; "and I receive it as a solemn command. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. ’ ‘Yes,’ she agreed, but her manner was a degree less warm. \" She said. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. On the north stood the battlements of one of the towers of the gate.
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