His eyes were open, and were now gently turned towards his young friend.

His countenance was sunk, and of a death-like appearance.

"I hope you are better," said Falkland in a half whisper, as if afraid of disturbing him.

Mr.Clare drew his hand from the bed-clothes, and stretched it forward; Mr.Falkland advanced, and took hold of it.

"Much better," said Mr.Clare, in a voice inward and hardly articulate; "the struggle is now over; I have finished my part; farewell! remember!" These were his last words.