Lester yielded to his judgment.
Neither Mr. Conway nor Margery had the heart to awaken him, as hour
after hour rolled by; he seemed so thoroughly exhausted and his deep
sleep was doing him such a world of good, although the complete outfit
which Mr. Conway had sent for had long since arrived.
It was night when Lester opened his eyes--imagining his surroundings for
the moment but the idle vagaries of a dream.
Mr. Conway's kindly, solicitous face bending over him soon brought him
to his senses, and a remembrance of all that had occurred.
"Oh, Mr. Conway! You should not have let me sleep," he cried. "I ought
to have been at Beechwood hours ago; something in my heart--some
terrible presentiment is warning me that my darling is in danger!"
"You are only fanciful," returned his old friend. "Anxiety makes you
imagine that."
"I hope it may prove as you say," replied Lester, huskily, and in an
hour's time he was on his way to Beechwood and Faynie.
CHAPTER XXIX.
"GREAT GOD, IT IS A GHOST--THE GHOST OF FAYNIE!"
We must now return to Faynie, and the thrilling position in which we so
reluctantly left her.
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