It was nearly noon, but he had not stirred or opened his eyes; once or twice the dilapidated chambermaid, who performed a slatternly duty in that part of the building, opened the door and peeped in, but her entrance had not served to arouse him, and she knew better than to venture upon any further attempt.
Suddenly he woke from a troubled dream and looked about him.
"I dreamed they were railing me up in a coffin," he muttered; "pah, how plainly I heard them driving in the nails!"
He turned upon his pillow with a shuddering oath, but that instant there came a knock at the door, this time quick and impatient--it was the first summons which had caused him that unquiet vision.
"Come in," he called out; "the door isn't locked."
The man raised himself indolently on the bed and looked towards the door--it opened slowly and a woman entered the room.
Her face was concealed under a heavy veil, but the man seemed to recognize her at once, for he started up and gave a muttered execration as he caught sight of his untidy appearance in the little mirror.
Then he hurried towards his visitor, who had closed the door and stood leaning against it.
"You have come," he exclaimed; "so kind of you--excuse the disorder here--I did not know it was so late."
He held out his hand with a smile, but she turned away with a gesture of abhorrence which had no effect upon him save that it deepened the smile to an ugly sneer.
She threw back the long veil and displayed her face--the visitor was Elizabeth Mellen.
"Pray be seated," he went on, placing a chair near the hearth; "this room looks dreadful, but I was up late and overslept myself--had I dreamed you would favor me with so early a visit, I should have been prepared."
She glanced at the table, which bore evidence of the manner in which the night had been passed, and said abruptly, pointing towards the cards scattered on the carpet:
"Nothing ever escapes your eye, dear lady. Well, I won't deny the fact--we were playing cards a little. I was not absolutely fortunate," he answered, with another disagreeable smile; "but you know the old proverb--'Lucky in love, unlucky at cards,' so I never expect much from the mischievous paste-boards."
Her face flushed painfully to the very waves of her hair, then grew whiter than before; she sank to a seat from positive inability to stand.