Page:Francesca Carrara 3.pdf/275

272 interest of listening, had stepped beyond the shade of the boughs, while the moonlight fell full on his uncovered head.

The excited imagination of Major Johnstone was impressed with but one image—that of the young cavalier whom he had sentenced to death. He believed that the tomb had sent back its prey, to mock his hopes and rise up in judgment against him. Strange, he had never felt regret—he had held his act but the execution of a righteous judgment. Now, like still waters chafed by a sudden tempest, a flood of remorse rushed at once upon his soul.

"Come ye in warning or in mockery?" muttered he, in a half-choked voice. "Francis Evelyn, I adjure ye, speak!" and he sank back senseless in the arms of those beside him.

All gathered round; but when it was perceived that he was slowly recovering, many approached Evelyn with words of welcome and of wonder.

"He mistook you for your brother," said an old man, who was rubbing the rigid hands he held in his own. "It was a harsh judgment that sentenced that young and brave cavalier to die like a dog. He might have been spared, had it been but for his father's sake."