Enter TOM, he listens at door and then lies down.

Enter OPHELIA, L. 1 E.,, with candle.

  Uncle Tom, what alive have you taken to sleeping anywhere and everywhere, like a dog, for? I thought you were one of the orderly sort, that liked to lie in bed in a Christian way.

  [Rises.—Mysteriously.] I do, Miss Feely, I do, but now—

  Well, what now?

  We mustn't speak loud; Mas'r St. Clare won't hear on't; but Miss Feely, you know there must be somebody watchin' for the bridegroom.

  What do you mean, Tom?

  You know it says in Scripture, “At midnight there was a great cry made, behold, the bridegroom cometh!” That's what I'm spectin' now, every night, Miss Feely, and I couldn't sleep out of hearing, noways.

  Why, Uncle Tom, what makes you think so?

  Miss Eva, she talks to me. The Lord, he sends his messenger in the soul. I must be thar, Miss Feely; for when that ar blessed child goes into the kingdom, they'll open the door so wide, we'll all get a look in at the glory!

  Uncle Tom, did Miss Eva say she felt more unwell than usual to-night?

  No; but she telled me she was coming nearer—thar's them that tells it to the child, Miss Feely. It's the angels—it's the trumpet sound afore the break o' day!

  Heaven grant your fears be vain! [Crosses to R.] Come in, Tom. [Exeunt R. 1 E.]