" "Without further fee?" inquired the knight. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. . What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. Sheppard, paralysed by the threat. . ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once.
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