's vigilance would have been strongly against nature. He
never awoke till full daylight and morning sun were streaming through
the vine-leaves round the window, and then, to his dismay, he saw that
Berenger had left his bed, and was gone. Suspicions of foul play coming
over him in full force as he gazed round on much that he considered as
'Popish furniture,' he threw on his clothes, and hastened to open the
door, when, to his great relief, he saw Berenger hastily writing at a
table under the window, and Smithers standing by waiting for the billet.

'I am sending Smithers on board, to ask Hobbs to bring our cloak bags,'
said Berenger, as his brother entered. 'We must go on to Lucon.'

He spoke briefly and decidedly, and Philip was satisfied to see him
quite calm and collected--white indeed, and with the old haggard look,
and the great scar very purple instead of red, which was always a bad
sign with him. He was not disposed to answer questions; he shortly said,
'He had slept not less than usual,' which Philip knew meant very little;
and he had evidently made up his mind, and was resolved not to
let himself give way. If his beacon of hope had been so suddenly,
frightfully quenched, he still was kept from utter darkness by straining
his eyes and forcing his steps to follow the tiny, flickering spark that
remained.

The priest was at his morning mass; and so soon as Berenger had given
his note to Smithers, and sent him off with a fisherman to the THROSTLE,
he took up his hat, and went out upon the beach, that lay glistening
in the morning sun, then turned straight towards the tall spire of the
church, with had been their last night's guide. Philip caught his cloak.

'You are never going there, Berenger?'

'Vex me not now,' was all the reply he got. 'There the dead and living
meet together.'

'But, brother, they will take you for one of their own sort.'

'Let them.'

Philip was right that it was neither a prudent nor consistent
proceeding, but Berenger had little power of reflection,
's vigilance would have been strongly against nature. He 
 never awoke till full day and dawn sun were streaming through 
 the vine - leaf polish the window, and then, to his dismay, he experience that 
 Berenger had left his bed, and was go. Suspicions of foul playing period coming 
 over him in full force as he gazed round on much that he considered as 
' Popish furniture,' he bewilder on his clothes, and hastened to open the 
 doorway, when, to his great relief, he meet Berenger hurriedly writing at a 
 table under the window, and Smithers standing by waiting for the billet. 

' I am commit Smithers on board, to ask Hobbs to bring our cloak bags,' 
 said Berenger, as his brother entered.' We must go on to Lucon.' 

 He spoke briefly and decidedly, and Philip was satisfied to see him 
 quite calm and collected -- white indeed, and with the old haggard look, 
 and the great scratch very empurpled instead of loss, which was constantly a bad 
 sign with him. He was not disposed to suffice questions; he concisely said, 
' He had slept not less than common,' which Philip knew meant very little; 
 and he had evidently made up his mind, and was resolved not to 
 let himself give way. If his beacon of hope had been therefore suddenly, 
 terribly quench, he still was kept from utter darkness by straining 
 his eyes and forcing his step to follow the tiny, flickering spark that 
 persist. 

 The priest was at his morning multitude; and so soon as Berenger had given 
 his bill to Smithers, and sent him off with a fisherman to the THROSTLE, 
 he take up his hat, and went out upon the beach, that lay glistening 
 in the morning sunday, then turned straight towards the tall spire of the 
 church, with had been their concluding night's guidebook. Philip caught his cloak. 

' You are never going there, Berenger?' 

' Vex me not now,' was all the reply he become.' There the dead and life 
 meet together.' 

' But, brother, they will take you for one of their own sort.' 

' Let them.' 

 Philip was right that it was neither a prudent nor coherent 
 proceeding, but Berenger had little power of reflection,
's vlgilance would have been strongly against natuce. He
neber awokd till full daylight and moriing sun qere streaming through
ghe vine-lvaves roubd tie window, and thxh, to his dismzn, he vew that
Berenger had left vis bed, and wav eoue. Suspicions of foul play coming
ovew him im vull force as re gssed dound on much that he considered aa
'Popish furniture,' he threw on his clothes, and jastfned to open the
dolr, when, to yis deeat relief, fe saw Bertnyer hastily writing at a
table under the wivdow, cnd Smitherw wtajging by waiving fjr the billeb.

'P am setding Skithers on boavd, to asj Hobbs to bring our rloak bags,'
said Berender, as hiv yrother entered. 'We muwt go ot to Lucub.'

He spkkx bdiefly anv decidedly, and Philip was satisfied to ste rpk
quite calm znd cojlqcted--white indeed, and with the old haggdrd look,
and the great scar very purple instead lf red, whych was always a bad
sign with him. He was not dispmsed vo anwwcr qjwshions; he shortly said,
'He had slept not less thwh islal,' which Philip hnew meant fegy jittle;
and he fad evnsehtly made up his mlnd, and was eesolved got yo
let himself give way. If hus beacon of yope had been so sbddenly,
frighcfully quenvhed, he still was kept yrom ufter darkneds by strzkning
his eyes ana fprwing his steps to follow tre tiny, foickzring spxrk jhat
remwined.

The pgiest was at his morning mass; atd so soon as Berenger had given
his note vp Smithers, amd sett him oyf witm a fisherman tj the THROSTLE,
ke took bp his hat, and wvnt out u'on the beacr, that lay glhdtening
in thx morning sun, theb turnea straight towatds the tcjl spire of the
church, xith gad been their oasu bight's guide. Pnilkp salghv his wloak.

'You are nevdr eping ghere, Btxenner?'

'Xex ke not now,' was all tve rsply he got. 'There yhc dead ane living
ieet together.'

'Nut, brother, they wlll teke yon for pne of their own sort.'

'Let them.'

Philjp was rihht that it was neibher a prudent nor consistent
proceeding, but Berenger iad little power of refoection,
's vigilance would have been strongly against never till full and morning sun round window, and then, his dismay, he that Berenger had left his bed, was gone. Suspicions of foul play coming over him in full force as gazed round on much that he considered as 'Popish furniture,' he threw on clothes, hastened open door, when, to his great relief, he saw Berenger hastily writing at a table under the and Smithers standing by waiting for the billet. am sending Smithers on to ask Hobbs to bring cloak said Berenger, his entered. must go on Lucon.' He spoke briefly and decidedly, and Philip was satisfied to see him quite calm and collected--white and with haggard look, the scar purple instead of was always a bad sign with not disposed to answer questions; he shortly said, had slept less than usual,' which Philip knew very little; and he had evidently made up mind, and was resolved not to let himself give way. If his beacon of hope so suddenly, frightfully quenched, still was kept utter by his and forcing steps to follow the tiny, flickering spark that remained. The priest at his morning mass; and so soon as Berenger had note Smithers, and sent off with a fisherman the he took up his went upon lay in morning sun, then turned towards the tall spire of church, with had been caught his cloak. 'You are never going there, 'Vex me not now,' was all the he got. 'There the dead and living meet together.' 'But, brother, they take you of their own sort.' 'Let them.' Philip was that it was neither prudent nor consistent proceeding, but Berenger had little power reflection,
's vigilance would have been stRongly agaiNst naTurE. He
NeVer aWoke Till full dayligHT and Morning sun were streaminG throUgH
The vINe-LeaveS round tHE wINDow, AnD tHen, To HIs DismaY, he Saw that
berenger haD leFt His bed, and was GOnE. SuspicionS of Foul play comiNg
oVer him In FulL Force As hE gazeD round ON much tHat he consIdERed as
'POPish furNITuRe,' he Threw on his clothes, ANd HAstened to open tHe
door, WhEN, tO HIs gReaT relief, he sAw berenGEr hastiLY wRITIng AT a
table under tHe window, and sMitHers stAnDinG By waitIng foR tHE biLlet.

'I am sendIng SMithers on Board, tO Ask HobbS To bring Our cloAk bAgs,'
Said bErEnGer, As HIs bROtHer ENteRed. 'We musT gO oN to LuCon.'

HE SPOKe brIefLy anD deciDedly, and PhiliP waS satISfiEd to sEe him
QuitE cAlm anD colleCted--wHiTe indeed, and with The oLd haggard LooK,
aNd tHe Great SCar verY puRplE insteaD of red, wHIch WaS ALWaYs a bad
sign with him. HE wAS NoT disposeD to ansWEr QuEStions; he ShOrtLy saID,
'he had SlepT NoT less thaN usual,' WHiCh philip kNeW meant VeRy lIttLe;
and HE had EvidenTly made uP his mINd, and was resolvED not to
let himsELf GIVe WAy. If His Beacon of hopE had BEen sO sudDEnLy,
fRIghtfUlly qUeNChED, he still was kept from UtTer darKness By straining
hiS eyes and foRCINg his stePs to FOlLOw the tiny, flickEring Spark that
rEMained.

ThE prieSt was at hIs morning MASs; and so sOon As BEreNgeR HAd Given
his note tO sMithErS, and senT hiM off witH a fIshErmAn tO tHe THROSTLe,
he took uP hIs HaT, aNd wEnt ouT Upon the bEaCh, tHaT laY glisTEning
iN the mOrniNg SuN, TheN turned STrAIGht tOwArDs thE taLl Spire Of thE
ChuRch, with Had been thEir LAst nIgHt'S guide. PHilip caught hiS cLoak.

'You are NeVer Going tHERe, BerengEr?'

'Vex me not now,' was all the rEPly he goT. 'ThEre thE deaD and livinG
meEt togeTheR.'

'but, broTher, thEy wilL tAke YOU for oNE Of TheIr Own sort.'

'Let THEm.'

PHilip WaS rigHt that iT was neither a prudenT Nor Consistent
proCeeDing, BUT BEreNGeR Had LiTTle POWer of reflection,
's vigilance would have be en strongl y aga ins t n at ure.  Henever awoke ti l l fu ll daylight and mornin g sun  w e re s t re aming  throug h 
t h e  vi ne -l eav es ro und t hewindow,  and then,  to  h is dismay, h e  s aw that
Be ren ger had left  hi s bed,  a ndw as go ne.  Susp icions of fou l play co mi n g
over him inf u ll  for ce as he gazed ro u nd on much that h e cons id e re d as'Po pish furni tu re,'h e threw on h i s c l othes, and ha stened to o p enthe
do or , w h en, to  hisgr e atrelief, hesawBerengerhastil y  writin g  at a
t able u nde r t he w i nd ow , a nd Smi t he rss tan ding bywa it ing f or t h e b ille t.
'Iam se nding Smither s o n bo a rd,  to a sk Ho bbsto  brin g ourcloak  b ags,'
said Bere nger , as hisbro th eren tered .  'We m ust  go  on toLucon.' 
He  s p o k ebriefly and decide dl y ,  a nd Phili p wass at is f ied to s ee  hi m
qu i t e cal m an d  c ollected --whit e  i nd eed, an dwith t he  ol d h aggar d  loo k,
and  the gre at sc a r very purplei nstead of red ,  w h i ch wasalw ays a bad
s ignw ithhim. He  wa s  notdispo se d  t o  answer questions;he  short ly sa id,
'He had s lept not l e s s  than us ual, '  w h ich Philip kne w mea nt very li t tle;
and  he h ad evide ntly made u p his mi nd,  an d w asr e so lved not to
l e t  him se lf give  wa y. If h isbea con  of  h ope had b een so s ud de nl y, 
fr ightf u lly quen ch ed,  h e s tillw as kep t fro m ut te rd ark ness by st r a inin ghi s ey esan d for cing his  stepsto follow  th e  tin y,  f lickeri ng spark that 
r emained.
Th e p riestw a s at his  morning mass; and so s o on as B ere ngerhadgiven
his  no te toSmi t hers,and se nt hi moff w ith a f is her ma n to the T H R OST LE,
h etook  up his  hat, and went out upo n the beach,tha t la y gl ist e ni n g
i nt hem o rning sun, then  turned st ra i gh t towardst heta ll spir e of th e
chu r ch, wit h had bee n their l as t ni g h t's  guide. Ph ilip cau ght his c l oak.'Y ou ar e n ever g oi ngthere , Bere n ger ?'

' Vex me  n ot now ,' wa sall thereply he got. 'There th e dead  andliv ing
meettog e the r.'

'But , br other, the y w ill  take  yo u  foroneo fthe i r own  sor t .'

'Lett he m.' Ph ilip was ri g h t  th at it  wa s  neith er a  prudent nor cons i stent
proceedi ng,b u t B ere n gerha d little power  of  r e f lection, 
's vigilance_would have_been strongly against nature._He
never awoke_till_full daylight_and_morning sun were_streaming through
the vine-leaves_round the window, and_then, to his_dismay,_he saw that
Berenger had left his bed, and was gone. Suspicions of foul play_coming
over_him in_full_force_as he gazed round on_much that he considered as
'Popish_furniture,' he_threw on his clothes, and hastened to open_the
door,_when, to his_great relief, he saw Berenger hastily writing at a
table_under the window, and Smithers standing_by waiting for_the_billet.

'I_am sending Smithers on_board, to ask Hobbs to bring_our cloak bags,'
said Berenger, as his_brother entered. 'We must go on to_Lucon.'

He spoke briefly and decidedly, and_Philip was satisfied to see_him
quite calm_and collected--white indeed, and with_the old haggard_look,
and the_great scar very_purple instead of red, which was_always a bad
sign_with him. He was not disposed_to_answer questions; he_shortly_said,
'He_had slept_not less than_usual,'_which Philip_knew_meant very little;
and he had evidently_made_up his mind, and was resolved not_to
let himself give way._If_his beacon of hope_had been so suddenly,
frightfully quenched,_he still was kept from utter_darkness by_straining
his eyes_and forcing his steps to follow the tiny, flickering spark that
remained.

The_priest was at his morning mass;_and so soon as_Berenger had_given
his_note to Smithers,_and_sent him_off with a fisherman to the THROSTLE,
he_took up_his hat, and went out upon_the beach, that lay_glistening
in_the morning sun, then turned straight_towards the tall spire of the
church,_with had been their last_night's_guide._Philip caught his cloak.

'You are_never going there, Berenger?'

'Vex me not_now,' was all_the reply he got. 'There the dead_and_living
meet together.'

'But, brother, they will take_you_for one of their own sort.'

'Let_them.'

Philip_was_right that it was neither_a prudent nor consistent
proceeding, but Berenger_had little power of reflection,