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72 large lustrous eyes, whose light was not of this world—so unearthly, so wild, was at that moment the expression of Walter's countenance. "He is dying!" sounded like a voice in Norbourne's ears: he tried to shake off what he termed a vain and foolish fear, but it clung to him like an omen. He looked again, and the colour had returned to Maynard's lips, the shadow of the grave had passed away; but Courtenaye still seemed to hear within him self a solemn and fated voice repeat, "He is dying!"