It seemed to come from the bed.

Did his ears deceive him?
Had the dead found a voice?
He started up in an agony of dread, and saw opposite to him the livid countenance of Philip Morton: the Son of the Corpse had replaced the Son of the Living Man! The dim and solitary light fell upon that countenance.

There, all the bloom and freshness natural to youth seemed blasted! There, on those wasted features, played all the terrible power and glare of precocious passions,--rage, woe, scorn, despair.

Terrible is it to see upon the face of a boy the storm and whirlwind that should visit only the strong heart of man! "She is dead!--dead! and in your presence!" shouted Philip, with his wild eyes fixed upon the cowering uncle; "dead with--care, perhaps with famine.

And you have come to look upon your work!" "Indeed," said Beaufort, deprecatingly, "I have but just arrived: I did not know she had been ill, or in want, upon my honour.