Nothing broke the stillness but the soft crackle of the fire, which began to flicker with blue tongues of flame, and cast a lurid glow upon the motionless figure with its hidden face. Deeper grew the wintry gloom without, ruddier shone the fateful gleam within, and heavy breaths began to heave the breast so tired of life.
Suddenly a step sounded on the stair, a hand knocked at the door, and when no answer came, a voice cried, “Open!” in a commanding tone, which won instant obedience, and dispelled the deathful trance fast benumbing every sense.
“The devil!” ejaculated the same imperious voice, as the door swung open, letting a cloud of noxious vapor rush out to greet the new-comer,—a man standing tall and dark against the outer gloom.
“Who is it? Oh! come in!” gasped the youth, falling back faint and dizzy, as the fresh air smote him in the face.
“I cannot, till you make it safe for me to enter. I beg pardon if I interrupt your suicide; I came to help you live, but if you prefer the other thing, say so, and I will take myself away again,” said the stranger, pausing on the threshold, as his quick eye took in the meaning of the scene before him.
“For God’s sake, stay!” and, rushing to the window, the youth broke it with a blow, caught up the furnace, and set it out upon the snowy roof, where it hissed and glowed like an evil thing, while he dragged forth his one chair, and waited, trembling, for his unknown guest to enter.
“For my own sake, rather: I want excitement; and this looks as if I might find it here,” muttered the man with a short laugh, as he watched the boy, calmly curious, till a gust of fresh air swept through the room, making him shiver with its sharp breath.
“Jasper Helwyze, at your service,” he added aloud, stepping in, and accepting courteously the only hospitality his poor young host could offer.
The dim light and shrouding cloak showed nothing but a pale, keen face, with dark penetrating eyes, and a thin hand, holding a paper on which the youth recognized the familiar words, “Felix Canaris.”
“My name! You came to help me? What good angel sent you, sir?” he exclaimed, with a thrill of hope,—for in the voice, the eye, the hand that held the card with such tenacious touch, he saw and felt the influence of a stronger nature, and involuntarily believed in and clung to it.