A time had come when the fever threatened to take Lord Harry's
vengeance out of his hands. The crisis of the disease declared itself.
With the shadow of death on him, the wretch lived through it--saved by
his strong constitution, and by the skilled and fearless woman who
attended on him. At the period of his convalescence, friends from
Ireland (accompanied by a medical man of their own choosing) presented
themselves at the house, and asked for him by the name under which he
passed--Carrigeen. With every possible care, he was removed; to what
destination had never been discovered. From that time, all trace of him
had been lost.
Terrible news followed on the next page.
The subtle power of infection had asserted itself against the poor
mortal who had defied it. Hugh Mountjoy, stricken by the man who had
murdered his brother, lay burning under the scarlet fire of the fever.
But the nurse watched by him, night and day.