Though travel-worn and wounded, he has sat by me all the time, and would only go to bed when I woke up with a cool forehead.' 'A good fellow, indeed.

His face spells honesty.

I can't say so much for that of a man I have just been talking with--a messenger of your friend Marcian.' The listener started as though he would leap out of bed.

A rush of colour to his cheeks banished the heavy, wan aspect which had partly disguised him, and restored the comely visage of Basil.

A messenger from Marcian?
he exclaimed.