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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man with a Shadow, by George Manville Fenn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Man with a Shadow
+
+Author: George Manville Fenn
+
+Release Date: November 8, 2010 [EBook #34248]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH A SHADOW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ONE.
+
+THE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS; AND TAKES HIS STICK.
+
+"Do what, miss?" said Dally Watlock.  "That!  There, you did it again."
+
+"La, miss; I on'y thought my face might be a bit smudgy, and I wiped
+it."
+
+"Don't tell me a falsehood, Dally.  I know what it means.  You felt
+guilty, and your face burned."
+
+"La, miss; I don't know what you mean."
+
+"Then I'll tell you, Dally.  You are growing too light and free, and
+your conduct is far from becoming, or what it should be for a
+maid-servant at the Rectory.  If girls are so foolish they must not be
+surprised at young men--gentlemen--taking such liberties.  Now go.  And
+mind this: if it ever occurs again, I shall acquaint my brother."
+
+"Well, I couldn't help it, miss.  I didn't ask Mr Tom Candlish to kiss
+me."
+
+"Silence!  How dare you?  Leave the room."
+
+"I was a-going to, miss.  He popped out from behind the hedge just as
+Billy Wilkins had given me the letters, and he says, `Give this note to
+Miss Leo, Dally,' he says, `and mind no one else sees.'"
+
+"I told you to leave the room, girl."
+
+"Well, miss, I'm a-going, ain't I?  And then, before I could help it, he
+put his arm round me and said my cheeks were like apples."
+
+"Will--you--leave--the--room?"
+
+"Yes, miss, of course I will; and then he kissed me just as Billy
+Wilkins looked back, and now he'll go and tell Joe Chegg, and he'll
+scold me too.  I'm a miserable girl."
+
+Red-cheeked, ruddy-lipped Dally Watlock--christened Delia as a
+compromise for Delilah--covered her round face with her apron, and began
+to sob and try to pump up a few tears to her bright dark eyes, as her
+young mistress seized her by the shoulders, and literally forced her out
+of the room, when Dally went sobbing down the passage and through the
+baize door before she dropped her apron and began to laugh.
+
+"She's as jealous as jel!" cried the girl.  "It made her look quite
+yellow.  Deal she's got to talk about, too.  Tell master!  She daren't!
+The minx!  I could tell too.  Who cares for her--tallow-face?  Thinks
+she's precious good-looking; but she ain't everybody, after all.  Master
+Joe Chegg, too, had better mind.  I don't care if he does know now."
+
+Then as if the spot burned, or as if a natural instinct taught her that
+the kiss imprinted upon her cheek was not as cleanly as it should have
+been, or as one of the honest salutes of the aforesaid Joe Chegg, Dally
+Watlock lifted her neat white apron, and wiped the place again.
+
+"How dare he kiss her?" said Leo Salis, frowning, as she laid the post
+letters beside her brother's place at the breakfast-table, and then
+stood with the note in her hand.  "I'll punish him for this!"
+
+She hastily tore open the note, which was written in a good, manly hand,
+but contained in ten lines four specimens of faulty spelling, and a "you
+was" which looked as big as a blot.
+
+The note was brief and contained a pressing invitation to meet the
+writer in Red Cliff Wood that morning, as soon after breakfast as she
+could.
+
+"I won't go," she said passionately.  "I'll punish him!"
+
+Then, as if feeling that she would punish herself, the girl stood
+thinking, and then hastily crushed the note in her hand and walked to
+the window, to be apparently studying the pretty Warwickshire landscape
+as her brother and sister entered the room.
+
+"Morning, Leo, dear," said Mary Salis, the elder of the two; a fair
+English girl, grey-eyed, with high forehead and dark-brown, wavy hair,
+her type of countenance, allowing for feminine softness, being
+wonderfully like that of the robust, manly-looking clergyman who entered
+with his hand resting upon her shoulder.
+
+"Morning, Mary," said Leo quietly; and her handsome dark, almost
+Spanish, features seemed perfectly calm and inanimate as she returned
+her sister's salute; and then, in a half weary way, rather distantly
+held up her cheek for her brother to kiss.
+
+"Get out!" said the latter boisterously, as he caught the handsome girl
+by the shoulders, and tried to look in her eyes which avoided his.  "No
+nonsense, Leo, my dear.  No grumps.  Give me a good, honest kiss.
+Lips--lips--lips."
+
+She raised her face in obedience to the emphatic demand, and then
+extricated herself from the two strong hands, to take her place at the
+table; while her sister, who seemed nervous and anxious, and kept
+glancing from one to the other, went to the head of the table, and began
+to make the tea.
+
+"You and I must not be on two sides, Leo, my dear," said the brother,
+smiling, but with a troubled look on his face, which seemed the
+reflection of that in the eyes of the elder sister.  "I'm like a
+grandfather to you, my darling, and what I say and advise is for the
+best."
+
+"Do you wish to send me back to my room, Hartley?" said the girl, half
+rising.
+
+"Name of a little fiddler in France, no!" cried Hartley Salis.  "There--
+mum!  I've done, dear.  Breakfast!  I'm as hungry as two curates this
+morning.  What is it, Dally?"
+
+"Ammonegs, sir," said the little maid, who entered with a covered dish.
+
+"Didn't know Ammon ever laid 'em," muttered the curate, with a dry look
+at his sisters.  "Now then: letters.  Let me see."
+
+He proceeded to open his letters, and read and partook of his breakfast
+at the same time, making comments the while for the benefit of his
+sisters, when he thought the news would please.
+
+"Humph!  May!" he said aloud; and then skimmed the ill-written, crabbed
+lines in silence.
+
+"Hang him!" he said to himself.  "What mischief-making wretch inspired
+that?" and he re-read the letter.  "`Not becoming of the sister of a
+clergyman to be seen so often in the hunting-field--better be engaged
+over parish work--excites a good deal of remark--hope shall not have to
+make this painful allusion again'--Humph!"
+
+The curate's face was full of the lines of perplexity, and rapidly
+doubling up the letter, he swallowed half a cup of tea at a gulp, much
+hotter than was good for him, and quite sufficiently so to cause pain.
+
+"Phew!  More milk, Mary, dear."
+
+A long white hand raised the milk-jug quickly, and the earnest grey eyes
+which belonged sought the curate's as he held out his cup.
+
+"Any bad news, Hartley, dear?"
+
+"Bad news?  No, no, dear, only one of May's old worries.  The old boy's
+got gout again."
+
+"Has he, dear?"
+
+"Well, he doesn't say so, but it breathes in that style.  He feels it
+his duty to stir me up now and then, and he generally does it with a
+sharp stick."
+
+He glanced as he spoke at Leo, who sipped her tea and read a novel,
+without apparently heeding what was going on.
+
+"It's a great shame, Hartley, working so hard in the parish as you do,"
+said Mary quietly; "while he--"
+
+"Oh, silence! thou reviler of those in high clerical places," cried the
+curate merrily, as he inserted his knife in the envelope fold of another
+missive, and slit it open.  "Here's a letter from North."
+
+The face of Mary Salis was perfectly composed, but there was a flash
+from her eyes and an eager look of inquiry as the letter was opened.
+
+"Ha!  Busy as a bee!  Conferences; lectures.  Going to be present at a
+great operation.  Nasty wretch!  How he does glory in great operations!"
+
+"It is his love of his profession," said Mary quietly.
+
+"Too enthusiastic," said the curate.  "Why doesn't he, a man with his
+income, make himself happy by doing what good he can to his patients,
+and have his game of chess here when his work is done?"
+
+"It is his desire to do good to his patients which makes him so earnest
+about scientific matters, dear," said Mary, smiling at her brother.
+
+"Very kind of you to do battle for him, my child; but Horace North works
+far too hard, and he'll end by going mad."
+
+"Or becoming one of the ornaments of his profession," said Mary,
+smiling.
+
+"Ornaments be hanged!  One of the useful corners, if you like."
+
+"Does he say when he is coming home?" said Mary quietly.
+
+"Yes; day after to-morrow.  Good news for Mrs Berens."
+
+The curate burst into a hearty laugh, and a very, very faint flush of
+colour came into Mary's cheek.
+
+"Saw her yesterday, and with a face as innocent of guile as could be she
+told me that she was very poorly, and should not feel safe to live long
+in a village where there was no medical man.  Glad old Horace is coming
+back, though.  What have we here?  Oh, I see.  Letter about the horse--
+no, it's a mare."
+
+Leo put down her book and listened attentively now.
+
+"Hah!  Yes!  North was right.  The fellow will take ten pounds less for
+her, after all."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+There was a faint sigh, expressive of gratification, and the curate
+looked up.
+
+"Are you satisfied, Leo?" he said gravely.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It goes against the grain," he said, laying his hand involuntarily upon
+the letter he had that morning received from the rector.
+
+"Don't say that, Hartley," cried Leo, with her face now full of
+animation.  "We can afford the horse, and it was absolutely disgraceful
+to appear on poor old Grey Joe."
+
+"Grey Joe was a good safe horse, and I never felt nervous when you were
+mounted.  Splendid fellow in harness too."
+
+"Yes, admirable!" cried Leo.  "And now you can keep him always for the
+chaise.  It will be so much better."
+
+The curate shook his head.
+
+"No," he said; "poor old Joe will have to so, and I wish him a wood
+master."
+
+"Poor old Joe!" said Mary, sighing, as she thought of many pleasant
+drives.
+
+"Grey Joe!  Go!" said Leo, with her lips apart.  "Then what will you do
+for the chaise?"
+
+"Use the new mare."
+
+Leo looked at him with speechless indignation.
+
+"Put the new mare in the chaise?" she faltered.
+
+"Yes, my dear.  The man says she goes well in harness."
+
+"Oh, Hartley," cried Leo, flushing now with indignation, "that would be
+too absurd!"
+
+"Why, my dear?"
+
+"You get me a mount because it is so unpleasant to go to the meet on an
+old chaise-horse, and then talk of putting my hunter in the chaise."
+
+"Grey Joe was not good enough for the purpose," said the curate gravely,
+"and at your earnest wish, my dear Leo, I have pinched in several ways
+that my sister, who is so fond of hunting, may not be ashamed before her
+friends."
+
+"Pinched!"
+
+"Yes, my dear, pinched myself and Mary.  Our consols money only gives
+three per cent., and it is hard work to make both ends meet.  You have
+your mount, and I cannot afford to keep two horses, so Grey Joe must go.
+We must have the use of a horse in the chaise, so the mare will have to
+run in harness sometimes."
+
+Leo rose from her chair with her eyes flashing and cheek aflame.
+
+"I declare it's insufferable," she cried, with a stamp of the foot.
+"Oh, I am so sick of this life of beggary and pinching!  All through
+this season I have been disgraced by that wretched old horse, and now
+when people who know me--Oh, I cannot bear to speak of it!"
+
+"My dear sister!"
+
+"It's cruel--it's abominable.  If it had been Mary, she could have had
+what she pleased."
+
+"My dear Leo," began Mary, looking up at her in a troubled way.
+
+"Hold your tongue!  You make mischief enough as it is.  You always side
+with Hartley, who has no more feeling than a stone."
+
+"But, my dear child," began the curate.
+
+"Child!  Yes; that's how you treat me--like a child.  You check me in
+every way.  I suppose you'll want to make me a nun, and keep me shut up
+always in this dreary hole.  You check me in everything, and Mary helps
+you."
+
+Mary looked up at her brother now, for he had slowly risen from his
+seat, and she knew the meaning of the stern aspect of his countenance.
+
+"I had hoped, Leo," he said, "that you would have accepted my decision
+about that to which you have thought it wise to allude."
+
+"I am driven to it," cried the girl passionately.
+
+"No: I try to lead," said the curate, "as a father might lead.  I shall
+be sorry when the time comes for you to quit our pleasant old home, but
+if a good man and true comes and says, `I love your sister; give her me
+to wife'--"
+
+"If you cannot speak plain English, pray hold your tongue," cried Leo
+scornfully.
+
+"I should hold out my hands to him, and greet him as a new brother,
+Leo," said the curate solemnly; "but when I find that my young, innocent
+sister is being made the toy of a worthless, degraded--"
+
+"How dare you?" cried Leo, flashing out in her rage, while Mary went to
+her side, and laid her hand upon the trembling arm half raised.
+
+"I dare," said the curate gravely, "because I have right upon my side.
+I think--and Mary joins me in so thinking--"
+
+"Of course!" said Leo scornfully.  "That Thomas Candlish is no fit
+companion for my sister.  I have told you so, and to cease all further
+communication.  I have told him so; forbidden him the house; and he has
+accepted my judgment."
+
+"Mr Candlish is a gentleman," cried Leo fiercely.
+
+"People call him so, and his brother by the same name, because of the
+old family property; but if they are gentlemen, thank Heaven I am a poor
+curate!"
+
+"Your conduct--"
+
+"Hush!" said the curate firmly.  "We will say no more about this, Leo,
+my dear.  You are angry without cause.  I have acceded to your request
+for a fresh horse, so as to indulge you in your love of hunting, and at
+more cost than you imagine.  I shall always be glad to do anything that
+I can to make my sisters happy; but I must be judge and master here,
+though I fear I am often very weak."
+
+"It is insufferable," cried Leo indignantly; and she raised quite a
+little whirlwind as she swept out of the room.
+
+The curate sighed, and sank back in his chair with his brow knit, till
+he felt a soft arm encircle his neck and a rounded cheek rest against
+his temple.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed; "that's better;" and he passed his arm round the
+graceful form.  "This is very sad, Mary.  But, there; we will not brood
+over it; difficulties often settle themselves."
+
+"Yes, Hartley."
+
+"But that Candlish business must not go on."
+
+"No, Hartley.  It is impossible."
+
+She kissed his forehead, and the breakfast was finished in silence--
+supposed to be finished.  It had really ended when Leo Salis quitted the
+room.
+
+It was about an hour later that as the Reverend Hartley Salis was hard
+at work over his sermon, striving his best to keep out college lore, and
+to write in language that the Duke's Hampton villagers could easily
+understand, that he came to the sentence following--
+
+"Now a man's duty, my friends--and a woman's"--he added parenthetically.
+
+"Now, what shall I tell them a man's duty is--and a woman's?"
+
+That required thought, and he laid down his pen, rose, and walked to the
+study window, to look out on the pleasant landscape; beautiful still,
+though not in the most goodly time of year.
+
+"Obedience!" he cried angrily, for just passing out of the little rustic
+gate at the bottom of the Rectory grounds he saw his sister Leo.
+
+She was in hat and cloak.  Her movements were rapid, and the furtive
+look she darted back told tales.
+
+"No," said the curate; "it would be spying.  I cannot."
+
+"It is your duty," something seemed to whisper to him.
+
+"Perhaps I am contemptibly mean and suspicious," he muttered.  "I hope I
+am.  If it is so, I'll--No, no, no, Hartley, my son!  Recollect what you
+are.  Such as the bishop should be, such must you be--no brawler--no
+striker.  No: it must be a favourable opportunity for a quiet chat with
+Leo, for we cannot go on like this, poor child."
+
+He went into the hall, took down his hat, reached a stout cudgel-like
+stick which his hand gripped firmly, as his nerves tingled, while his
+left hand clenched, and felt as if it were grasping some one by the
+collar.
+
+"A scoundrel!" he muttered.
+
+"Going out, dear?"
+
+"Ah, Mary!  You there!  You go about like a mouse.  Yes, I've just got
+to `a man's duty is' in my sermon, and can't get any farther, so I'll go
+as far as Red Cliff Wood and back for a refresher."
+
+He nodded and went out.
+
+"Poor Mary!" he muttered; "she must not know; but if I had stayed a
+minute longer she would have found me out.  Now, Master Tom Candlish, if
+you are there, I'll--"
+
+He gave himself a sharp slap on the mouth.
+
+"Steady!  Man, man, man! how you do forget your cloth!  But if Tom
+Candlish--Pish!  Steady, man!  Let's go and see."
+
+Mary Salis stood in the deep old mullioned window, gazing after him.
+
+"Hartley never leaves and speaks like that unless there is something
+wrong," she said to herself.  "If that wretched man has persuaded Leo--
+she has just gone out--without a word.  Oh, no, no! she would not do
+such a thing as that.  How I do picture troubles where there are none!"
+
+She stood watching until her brother disappeared, and then went back
+into the dining-room, telling herself that it was folly, but her heart
+refused to be convinced, and set up a low, heavy, ominous throb.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO.
+
+DR NORTH GETS IN HOT WATER.
+
+"Yah!"
+
+A virtuous mob's war-cry.  The favourite ejaculation of the unwashed
+scoundrels who are always ready to redress grievances and hunt down
+their fellow-creatures for the crimes they glory in themselves--when
+they can commit them safely.
+
+There is always a large floating contingent ready for this duty, and
+also--to use their own expression--"to have a go at any think;" and upon
+several occasions they had had "a go" at the lecture-room of St.
+Sector's Hospital, Florsbury, the consequence of such "goes" being that
+the neighbouring glaziers had a large job; but the authorities preferred
+to content themselves with keeping out the wind and water, and left the
+exterior unpainted, showing the stone dents, chipped paint, and
+batterings of the insensate crew of virtuous beings who revel in
+destruction whenever they have a chance.
+
+The "Yahoos" had their own theory about St. Sector's, and allowed
+themselves to smoulder for a time, but every now and then they burst
+forth into eruption, and then the consequences were not pleasant to
+behold.
+
+Lecture night at St. Sector's, and a goodly gathering present to witness
+an operation performed by one of the greatest surgical _savants_ of the
+day.  There were medical students present, but some of the cleverest
+surgeons of London and the country had made a point of being there to
+see the operation and learn how to combat a terrible disease which, up
+to that date, had been considered certain death to the unfortunate being
+who contracted that ill.
+
+The old _savant_ had thought, had experimented, and had given years of
+his life to studying that evil, and now, having proclaimed the result of
+his discoveries, and coming as the announcement did from a man of such
+weight in the profession, a strong band of the lights of surgical
+science had gathered together to witness the experiment; and also hear a
+paper read by a young surgeon from the country--Dr Horace North.
+
+Precedence was given to the paper, and a keen, intelligent, handsome
+young man of thirty stepped up to the lecturer's table with a roll of
+papers in his hand.  He looked rather pale, and there was a slight
+twitching at the corners of his lips as he bowed to his audience, after
+a few words of introduction from the grey-haired chairman of the
+evening.  Then the buzz of conversation, which had ceased for a few
+moments, began again.
+
+He felt that he had a task before him, that of stopping a gap in front
+of which an eager crowd were ready to clamour for the treat they had
+come to hear.  Dr Horace North was nothing to them, and the young
+students voted his paper a bore.
+
+He began to read in a calm, clear voice, expounding his views, and the
+buzz of voices increased as first one and then another page was read and
+turned over, scarcely a word being heard.
+
+He stopped and poured out a glass of water, and the carafe was heard to
+clatter against the glass as the lecturer's hand trembled.
+
+This was the signal for a titter, which was repeated by some thoughtless
+student, as the reading was resumed without the water being tasted.
+
+Then five minutes of painful reading ensued, with the buzz of voices
+increasing.
+
+There was a sudden stoppage, and all were attentive.
+
+For, with an angry gesture, the young doctor rolled up his papers, threw
+them aside, and took a step forward.
+
+"Gentlemen," he cried, in a voice which rang through the theatre, "I am
+addressing you who in the conceit of youth believe that there is little
+more to learn, and who have treated my reading with such contempt."
+
+"Hear, hear!" cried the old chairman.
+
+Those two encouraging words touched the speaker, and, with a dramatic
+earnestness of manner, he exclaimed:
+
+"I have not much to say, but it is the result of years of study, and
+that you shall hear."
+
+Then, for the space of half-an-hour, in fluent, forcible language, he
+poured forth the result of his observations and belief that they, the
+followers of the noble science of surgery, had a great discovery before
+them waiting to be made, one which it was the duty of all to endeavour
+to drag forth from the dark depths in which Nature hid away her
+treasures.
+
+He declared that death should only follow upon old age, when the fruit
+was quite ripe, and ready to fall from the tree of life.  He left it to
+the followers of medicine to attack and conquer disease, so that plague
+and pestilence should no longer carry off their hecatombs of victims,
+and addressed the surgeon alone, telling him that in case of accident or
+after operation, no man of health or vigour should be allowed to die.
+
+There was a half laugh here, and a sneer or two.
+
+"I repeat it," cried the speaker.  "No such man should be allowed to
+die."  Previous to his accident he was in robust health, and his
+apparent death was only, as it were, a trance, into which he fell while
+Nature busily commenced her work of restoration, the building-up again
+of the injured tissues.  How the sustaining of the patient while Nature
+worked her cure was to be carried out, it was the duty of them all to
+discover, and for one he vowed that he would not rest till the discovery
+was made.
+
+In the case of drowning it was often but suspended animation.  In the
+case of accident and apparent death, it would be the same.  Death by
+shock, he maintained, was a blot upon the science of the present day.
+Those who died by shock merely slept.  Such body was in full health and
+vigour, and Nature would repair all damages by the aid of man; and he
+was convinced that the time would come when surgeons would save a
+hundred lives where they now saved one.
+
+The speaker sat down amidst a whirlwind of applause, for his manner, his
+thorough belief, and his earnestness carried away his audience; and the
+result would have been a most exciting discussion but for the
+intervention of the chairman, who pointed to the clock, and at once
+introduced the great surgeon, while a murmur ran through the theatre as
+a large table was wheeled into the centre of the building from behind a
+curtain, and those present knew what the draping of the table concealed.
+
+A burst of applause greeted the grave, grey-headed surgeon; and as it
+ceased, he expressed, in a few well-selected words, the pleasure he had
+felt in listening to Dr Horace North, to whose theory he expressed
+himself ready to pin his faith.
+
+"And I say this, gentlemen, for the reason that I am here to-night--to
+point out to you how great a stride can be made in surgery--how much we
+have yet to learn."
+
+Then, explaining in a calm, clear voice as he went on, he turned back
+his sleeves, and selected a long, keen blade from a velvet-lined case,
+signed to his assistants, and the subject upon which he was to operate
+lay there grim, cold, and ghastly.
+
+No: not ghastly to the earnest men who saw in it the martyr immolated to
+the saving of thousands, as, with deft fingers and unerring skill, the
+great surgeon made his incisions; and exemplifying step by step each act
+and its reasons, he performed his wonderful experiment to the last
+stroke; and then, having finished, was about to draw back when there was
+a volley of stones upon door and window, and, amid the creaking of
+woodwork and the tinkling of falling glass, came the yelling of the
+virtuous mob--"Yah!"
+
+And directly afterwards--"Body-snatchers!  Yah!"  For a moment there was
+a stillness, as if the audience in the lecture theatre had been
+paralysed; then there was a general stampede towards the door, and a
+burst of rage, excitement, and dread, as a voice loudly announced that
+the mob had scaled the wall and were in the yard--a tremendous volley of
+stones and brickbats endorsing the announcement.
+
+For a few minutes only one present seemed to keep his head, and that was
+the old operator, who whispered a few orders to his assistants, and with
+rapid action the table, with its burden, was draped and wheeled beyond
+the curtained arch from which it had been drawn, the banging of a heavy
+door and the shooting of bolts following directly after.
+
+The beating of heavy sticks upon the doors, the smashing in of the
+windows, glass and wire-work giving way at every volley, and the yelling
+of the mob, made a deafening uproar, during which the old surgeon calmly
+began returning his favourite operating knives to their purple
+velvet-lined cases, locking them up carefully, as he turned to Horace
+North, who stood beside him, and said, with a smile:
+
+"Now what have we done to deserve such treatment as this?"
+
+"Yah!  Body-snatchers!" came with a burst of yells from without.
+
+"Done, sir?" said the young doctor, flushing.  "Toiled hard to discover
+means of alleviating pain and saving life.  This is our reward."
+
+"Yes," said the old man, smiling, as he patted his cases.  "My pets; I
+shouldn't like to lose them.  Yes, sir, ignorance in Christian England
+in the nineteenth century!"
+
+"Yah!  Body-snatchers!" came again; and the howling and yelling mob were
+evidently forcing their way in.
+
+"Never mind them, Mr North," continued the old man.  "Let me see and
+hear from you.  I believe in your theory.  You have gone too far, my
+dear sir; youth is sanguine.  You have aimed at the top of the mountain.
+You will not get there, but to a good high place, and I am proud to
+have met so clever, so talented a young man."
+
+"Thank you, sir; thank you," cried North, as the old man lowered his
+cases into his pockets; "but hadn't we better try and get away?"
+
+"Try?" said the old man.  "I do not see how we can.  The mob are
+arranging for seizing by escalade."
+
+"Yah!  Body-snatchers!" came in a fierce yell, louder, too, as it
+followed upon a tremendous crash.
+
+The irruption of the London "Yahoos" had taken place, and they were
+pouring in, headed by a fierce-looking, crop-eared, bullet-headed
+ruffian, and the fight began.
+
+Medical students can fight; and upon this occasion they used their fists
+scientifically and well; but the odds were against them.  The mob swept
+on, and the big ruffian and a dozen companions made a dash over the
+seats, treating them as they would those of the gallery of a theatre on
+a night when they wished to express their displeasure.
+
+Before Horace North realised the fact, they were upon the group by where
+the operating table had stood, and close to another table upon which
+were bottles, glasses, basins, sponges, and a pestle and mortar.
+
+The young doctor was borne back as the yell--the war-cry, "Yah!
+Body-snatchers!"--once more arose, and as he struggled with one
+scoundrel who tried to take vengeance upon him by stealing his watch, he
+saw the grey-headed old surgeon struck down by the bullet-headed,
+butcher-like ruffian who led the gang; and the fellow was about to
+follow up his attack by performing a war-dance upon the defenceless old
+man.
+
+He had not time, for Horace North literally flung himself upon the
+savage and drove him from his prey, but only to be grasped in turn by
+one whose greatest pleasure was destruction, and whose unpleasant mouth
+expanded into a satisfied grin as he bore back the body of his weaker
+adversary, and with it a good deal of the future of Mary and Leo Salis
+linked in with that of half the village of Duke's Hampton.
+
+"Ah, would yer! it's my turn now."
+
+The vengeance of his class against what he called a "swell."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE.
+
+SCIENCE AT WORK.
+
+Horace North was more of the student than the athlete, and he felt the
+blood rushing to his head--a strange sensation of vertigo which he could
+have aptly described in writing, and thoroughly expressed, with all due
+detail, the action going on by the compression of certain veins and an
+artery.  But for a few moments, in the _melee_, he could do nothing to
+free himself of the savage grip, which threatened to injure him for
+life, if it did not quite destroy.
+
+But science is a fine backer of brute force.  A man with little muscle
+is the equal of a giant when both are armed with sword or pistol; and
+could Horace North have brought his science to bear in the shape of
+galvanism or some anaesthetic, he would have had the burly giant at his
+mercy instead of rapidly losing his senses.
+
+Galvanism was, however, not at hand, the opportunity to administer a
+dose of ether or chloroform was also wanting, and as one of the young
+doctor's hands vainly grasped the ruffian's sinewy wrist, the other fell
+nearly nerveless upon the table against which he was borne.
+
+Here, fortunately, he found the much-needed help of science in the shape
+of a pestle of marble comfortably reposing in its native mortar.
+
+Horace North had often used a pestle in peace; he now used it in war,
+for his fingers closed upon the wooden handle, the heavy weapon
+described the arc of a circle, there was a sounding rap, half an oath--
+barely that--and the big ruffian fell all in a heap upon the floor.
+
+For a few moments Horace North felt dazed, but the fighting instinct of
+the man was now roused, and as a couple of the leader's friends came at
+him to avenge their comrade's fall, one uttered a yell as the pestle was
+dashed in his face, and the other a howl as it came down with a crack
+upon his collarbone, both being rendered _hors de combat_, while the
+doctor now bestrode the prostrate body of the old surgeon, and kept the
+rest at bay.
+
+Just at this time there was a burst of cheering, for the students were
+warming to the fray and fighting shoulder to shoulder.  The mob,
+disheartened by their leader's fall, began to give way.  The atmosphere
+of the lecture-hall was evidently too warm, and their retrograde
+movement rapidly became a rout, in which they were swept bodily out of
+the place by door and window, too much governed by the laws of
+self-preservation to think even of those who were down.
+
+Then, as the last scoundrel was driven out, and a tremendous cheer arose
+from the victors, a strong body of police marched into the hall, well
+buttoned up and beautifully cool, to find that the work was done--all
+save that of marching off half-a-dozen dizzy, unwashed savages to the
+cooling cell.
+
+"Better, sir?"
+
+"Eh?  Better?  Yes--a little contused.  Water!  Thank you.  Yes; better
+now.  Rather rough proceedings."
+
+The old man looked round rather piteously, till his eyes lighted upon
+the young doctor.
+
+"Ah! you, Mr North.  I remember now.  Thank you.  Would you mind
+helping me to my carriage?  I'm rather giddy."
+
+The task was done: the old man being helped to the hospital, and through
+it to a private entrance, where his carriage was in attendance, away
+from the crowd.
+
+"That's right.  Come home with me, Mr North.  I should like a few words
+with you, if you would not mind."
+
+Horace North gladly entered the carriage, for he thought the old man not
+fit to go alone, and in the excitement at the hospital no one paid him
+the slightest attention.
+
+"Now come to my room," said the old man, as they were set down at his
+residence in Harley Street.  "Hurt?  Oh, no!--a trifle.  I want to talk
+to you about your plans.  We'll have a cup of coffee, a cigar, and a
+chat."
+
+That chat in the great surgeon's study lasted till daybreak, and then
+Horace North walked back to his hotel with his brain on fire.  For, with
+his ideas to a certain extent endorsed by the great authority he had
+just quitted, he saw himself on the eve of a grand discovery, one which
+should immortalise his name and benefit his fellow-creatures to a vast
+extent.
+
+"It is like taking a plunge into the unknown," he cried, as he walked
+hurriedly on, excited beyond measure.  For Horace North was like the
+rest of the world--blind as to what would happen.  Had he been
+otherwise, he would have buried his secret thoughts for ever sooner than
+have faced that which was to come.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR.
+
+PARSON SALIS TAKES OFF HIS COAT.
+
+Mary Salis was wrong, for her headstrong, passionate sister was ready to
+do whatever she pleased, and what pleased her then was to obey the
+summons contained in the note Dally Watlock delivered to her that
+morning.
+
+Her brother's face grew stern and hard as he walked on, to see from time
+to time small footprints in the soft track, for a southerly wind and a
+cloudy sky proclaimed it a hunting morning.  No dry wind had hardened
+the path, and Hartley Salis felt convinced that he knew his sister's
+goal.
+
+In half-an-hour he reached Red Cliff Wood, the great patch of ancient
+oaks on the Candlish estate through which the best trout-stream in the
+shire--the one which flowed through the Rectory meadows and down at the
+bottom of the Manor House garden--meandered.
+
+His path was along by the stream, which here and there showed upon its
+bank the same traces of a pair of little feet, whose high-heeled boots
+left deep imprints; and Hartley Salis grew more stern as he walked on
+toward the depths of the wood, where the great mass of ruddy stone
+cropped out to give its name to the place, and form, as it overhung the
+stream, a glorious fernery, ever moist with the water that oozed from
+the strata from foot to top.
+
+A dozen yards farther and there was a low whinnying noise, which came
+from a handsome sorrel hunter, secured by the bridle to a ragged old oak
+bough.
+
+Not an unpleasant picture in that glorious old mossy wood, but
+sufficient to make Hartley Salis set his teeth, grip his stick tightly,
+and stride rapidly on to a green path a little farther away, where
+another picture met his gaze--to wit, his sister Leo with her back to
+him, and that back encircled by a broad scarlet band, which, on closer
+inspection, took the form of the arm of a well-built man in hunting-coat
+and top-boots.
+
+Hartley Salis walked swiftly toward the group, the soft, mossy ground
+silencing his approach, till he trod upon a piece of rotten branch,
+which broke with a loud crack.
+
+The couple started apart and turned to face the intruder, when Leo
+uttered a gasp of mingled shame and anger, and staggered back against a
+tree, leaving her brother face to face with Tom Candlish of the Hall.
+
+For a few moments neither spoke, and then as the young man in scarlet
+got over his surprise, he half closed his dark eyes, and a mocking smile
+curved his lip.
+
+"So it has come to this," said the curate at last, speaking in a low
+voice full of suppressed anger.
+
+"Hallo, parson!  You here?  Coming to the meet?" said the young man,
+half mockingly.
+
+"After what has passed between us--"
+
+"Oh, come, that'll do," cried the young man insolently.  "Do you suppose
+you have a right to begin preaching at me every time you see me?"
+
+"Do you suppose, sir," cried the curate, still mastering his anger,
+"that you, because your father was the great land-holder here, have a
+right to persevere with what I have expressly forbidden?"
+
+"Confound your insolence, sir!  Don't speak to me like that.  What the
+deuce do you mean?"
+
+"What do I mean, sir?  I mean this--and I beg that you will not adopt
+that bullying tone toward me."
+
+"Bullying tone!  You shall find something else besides a bullying tone
+if you interfere with me;" and as the young man spoke he gave his
+hunting-whip a flourish.
+
+The curate's cheeks flushed, and his brow contracted with anger; but he
+maintained his calmness as he continued:
+
+"You asked me what I mean.  I mean this: I, as their elder brother, and
+a clergyman of the Church of England, occupy the post of guardian to my
+two orphan sisters.  They are happy in their life with me at the old
+Rectory, and I naturally look with serious eyes at the man who tries to
+tamper with that happiness.  I should feel troubled if a gentleman came
+to the house in a straightforward, honourable way, and said to me, `Sir,
+I love one of your sisters; I ask your permission to visit at your
+house; give sanction to the engagement:' but when--"
+
+"Oh, if you are going to preach, I'm off.  Finish it on Sunday."
+
+The curate's colour grew deeper as he stepped before the young man, and
+stopped his departure.
+
+"I am not going to preach, sir; but I am going to make you hear what I
+have to say."
+
+"Make?"
+
+"Yes, sir, make, in spite of your insults.  You are the brother of the
+chief man in this village, and I am only the curate; but you are to a
+certain extent under me; and now you have driven me to it, I am, I
+repeat, going to make you hear what I have to say."
+
+"Oh, are you?" mockingly.
+
+"Yes.  I say, when instead of approaching my sister in an honourable
+way, a man who is noted for his blackguardly conduct toward more than
+one poor girl in this village--"
+
+"Look here, parson, is this meant as an insult?"
+
+"--Comes to my house, and is requested to cease his visits, and then
+lays siege to the affections of one of my sisters in a cowardly,
+contemptible, clandestine fashion, I say, that man is unworthy of the
+treatment I should accord to a gentleman, and calls for that which I
+would give to some low-lived cad."
+
+"Here, I say," cried Tom Candlish fiercely; "do you mean to tell me I am
+not your sister's equal?"
+
+"I tell you, sir, that no one who makes himself the associate of betting
+men, racecourse touts, and low-lived jockeys is the equal of the lady
+you have named, while one who, in opposition to my wishes, insists upon
+writing to the weak, foolish girl, and persuades her to meet him as you
+have done, merits a sound castigation."
+
+"Once more, do you mean to tell me, I am not your sister's equal?"
+
+"I do; and no amount of repentance, sir, for your ill-deeds would make
+you so."
+
+"Look here!" cried the young fellow, "you've been talking to me like a
+man sometimes, and then you've been dodging into your clerical jargon
+again.  I've listened to you pretty patiently, and have borne more than
+I should from any one else because you are a parson; but you've gone too
+far, and now it's my turn.  If Leo--"
+
+"Miss Leonora Salis, sir."
+
+"If Leo tells me she won't have any more to say to me, I shall go; but
+as for you--hark here.  I shall write to her, I shall meet her, and I
+shall ask her to meet me just as often as I please.  Not her equal, I!
+Why, you miserable, beggarly, hundred-a-year, threadbare curate, how
+dare you address me as you do?  Do you know who I am?"
+
+"Yes: Tom Candlish, brother of Sir Luke Candlish, of Candlish Hall."
+
+"Yes, sir, descendants of one of our finest English families."
+
+"Descendants, sir," retorted the curate, "of a miserly, money-spinning
+old scoundrel, who gave impecunious James the First so many hundred
+pounds for a contemptible baronetcy, which has come down to one of as
+disgraceful a pair as ever sat like a blight upon a pleasant English
+village."
+
+"You insolent hound!" roared Tom Candlish; "I'll ride over to May and
+have you kicked out of your curacy."
+
+"Do," said the curate.
+
+"No, I won't, for Leo's sake.  But, look here, master parson, don't you
+interfere with me, or, by God, sir!  I'll give you the most cursed
+horsewhipping I ever gave man in my life.  By George! if it wasn't for
+your white neck-cloth and black coat, hang me.  I'd do it now."
+
+He extended one hand, as if to grasp the curate's collar, and raised his
+hunting-whip menacingly; but in an instant it was whisked out of his
+hand, and sent flying.
+
+"You object to my white tie and black coat, eh, Tom Candlish?" said the
+curate, rapidly throwing them off and across a neighbouring oak branch;
+"there, then, for the time being they shall not afflict your eyes or put
+me out of your reach.  Now then, we are on equal terms.  Strip off that
+scarlet coat, you miserable popinjay."
+
+"What do you mean?" cried Tom Candlish, turning mottled in the face.
+
+"I mean, sir, that words are no use to such a scoundrel as you: that a
+curate is also a man.  In this case he is the lady's brother, and in
+addition there are a score of insults to wipe away.  Take off your
+coat."
+
+"What!" cried Tom Candlish, with a sneering laugh.  "Look here--do you
+know that I can fight?"
+
+"I know you were in a blackguardly prize-fight, sir, in a ring where
+your opponent was a sort of champion of the Bilston colliers."
+
+"Yes, so put on your coat and go home while you're safe."
+
+"And I know that I have not clenched my fist in anger, sir, since I left
+Oxford, twelve years ago; but if you had beaten Tom Sayers it would not
+move me now.  One of us two does not leave this wood without a sound
+thrashing, and, please goodness, that's going to be you."
+
+The Reverend Hartley Salis, M.A., rapidly rolled up his shirt-sleeves
+over his white arms; while it was observable that the nearly new scarlet
+hunting-coat worn by handsome Tom Candlish, of Candlish Hall, came off
+very slowly, possibly on account of its excellent fit.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE.
+
+THE DOCTOR'S PATIENTS WANT HIM AT HOME.
+
+"Ah!  Horace, old man, back again?"
+
+"Yes.  I should have come on sooner, but I--Hallo! gloves!  Why, what's
+the matter with your hands?"
+
+"Oh! nothing.  Rubbed the skin off my knuckles.  That's all."
+
+"Humph!" said the curate's visitor--Horace North; and there was a
+curious twinkle in his eyes.  "I say, I should have been over sooner,
+but I found a letter from Luke Candlish, asking me to go across to the
+Hall, as his brother was unwell."
+
+"Oh!" said the curate quietly.
+
+"Went over and found the squire nearly drunk.  He's killing himself
+fast."
+
+"They're a nice pair," said the curate grimly.
+
+"More shame for you to say so," cried North.  "They're your moral
+patients.  You ought to improve them."
+
+"Yes," said the curate drily.
+
+"The squire was sober enough, though, to tell me that his brother had
+had a nasty accident--was going to the meet yesterday, when his horse
+bolted with him, and somehow raced off into Red Cliff Wood, where Tom
+was only able to check him right up at the top there, where the beast
+threw him and he fell crashing down from the top of the cliff to the
+bottom."
+
+"Into the stream?" said the curate quietly.
+
+"No; I didn't hear anything about the stream," said the doctor.  "I went
+up and found him swearing at one of the maids because she was putting a
+poultice on his right eye too hot.  Then he began to swear at me for not
+coming sooner.  That raised my dander, and I told him I'd give him a
+dose that would keep him in bed for a month if he wasn't civil."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Well, then he cooled down and sent the maid away."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"And I went to work.  He has had one of the most curious falls I ever
+met with in practice.  His eyes are closed up--beautiful pair of black
+eyes; lip cut; right canine tooth in upper jaw broken short off; several
+contusions on the lower jaw; rib broken; and the skin off his
+knuckles.--Been doing anything to your bees?"
+
+"Bees?  What, this time of year?  No.  Why?"
+
+"Cheek looks a little puffy.  Curious fall that of Tom Candlish.  Looked
+more like having been in another prize-fight.  Let me see your
+knuckles."
+
+"No; they're all right.  Don't humbug, Horace, old man.  You've guessed
+it.  I gave him a most awful thrashing."
+
+"Bless you, my son!" cried the doctor, clapping him on the shoulder.
+
+"And I feel miserable at having disgraced myself so."
+
+"Nonsense!  Church militant.  Thrashed a confounded scoundrel.  But what
+for?  He has never had the insolence to--?"
+
+He gave his head a short nod towards the drawing-room.
+
+"Yes, and--There, I caught them together.  He has been sending notes to
+her to meet him.  I was in a passion, and he insulted me; and--and--"
+
+"You pitched into the scoundrel, and you've given him the loveliest
+thrashing a man ever deserved.  My dear Salis, you've done one of the
+grandest deeds of your life."
+
+"I'm a clergyman, and I've behaved like a blackguard."
+
+"Nonsense!  There's only one drawback to what you have done."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"Did it when I was not there to see the fun.  Why, it's glorious."
+
+"I shall never forgive myself."
+
+"Then I'll forgive you.  Why, you soft-hearted old parson, you know you
+cannot touch him and his rascal of a brother with words, and you know
+that they are the curses of the neighbourhood."
+
+"No reason for me to give way to temper, and degrade myself."
+
+"Degrade your grandmother, sir!  You've treated them as the Irish
+priests treat their flocks.  Metaphorically given Tom Candlish the
+stick.  It was your duty, sir, and there's an end of it."
+
+"No; I'm afraid there's not an end to it.  He threatens to go to May."
+
+"Bah!"
+
+"And to lay my conduct before the bishop."
+
+"And goes to bed and pretends his horse threw him.  Get out, you old
+humbug; you'll never hear another word."
+
+"I, who wish to live at peace with all men, have made a deadly enemy."
+
+"Pooh!  He's a wind-bag.  You've taken the right course, and nipped that
+affair in the bud.  Does Leo know of it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And Mary?"
+
+"Not a word, so be careful--hist! some one coming."
+
+"May I come in?" said a sweet, musical voice.
+
+"Come in?  Yes," said the young doctor, leaping up to throw open the
+door, and greet Mary Salis with a frank smile and so hearty a shake of
+the hand that she had hard work not to wince.  "There, don't come
+nearer; I smell of London smoke and blacks.  Thank goodness, I'm back
+home."
+
+"The place does not seem the same without you," said Mary, going behind
+her brother's chair, to stand with her hands resting upon his shoulders.
+
+"I don't know about the place, but I know I do not feel the same out of
+it.  Must go sometimes, though, to pick up a few facts, or one would be
+left behind.  Did you go to the house?"
+
+"Yes, and found Mrs Milt very busy."
+
+"Bless her!  Nice game she has had, Salis.  General clear up, and my
+study turned upside down.  Seen old Moredock?"
+
+"Yes, went yesterday," said the curate.  "The old mail was lying down,
+and fretting because you were away.  Said he knew he should die before
+you returned."
+
+"Stuff.  He'll live to a hundred; but I'll go and see the old boy.
+There, now you're laughing," he said, turning to Mary; "now, don't say
+Mrs Berens has been ill and wanted me."
+
+"Why not?" said Mary, with her pleasant face lighting up, and a slight
+flush coming into her soft cheeks.  "I told you the place did not seem
+the same without you."
+
+"Mrs Berens met me twice, and sighed large sighs," said the curate,
+laughing.  "Hah!  I wish they'd all be as anxious about their souls as
+they are about their bodies."
+
+"And they're not, old fellow?" said the doctor.
+
+"No.  I begin to wish you were out of the place, North, for you are my
+hated rival."
+
+"Hartley!" said Mary reprovingly.
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the doctor.  "Jealous.  Never mind, old fellow.
+It'll all come right in the end.  There, can't stop.  I've no end to
+do."
+
+"But how did you get on in London?"
+
+"Splendidly.  Horribly.  No end of adventures.  Tell you all about it
+when I come again.  Must see patients now.  Must wind up old Moredock,
+and set him going again, or no bells, no clock, and no `Amens' on
+Sunday."
+
+"Well, we could do without the last," said the curate, smiling.  "Going
+to see Mrs Berens?"
+
+The doctor made a comical grimace.
+
+"Must," he said; "but, 'pon my word, I always feel ashamed to charge for
+my visits.  She's as well as you are, Miss Salis."
+
+"But she's always better when you've been to feel her pulse," said the
+curate, laughing.
+
+"Get out!" cried the doctor merrily.
+
+"I say, North, don't be shabby."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Don't slip off, and be married in London.  Have it here, and let me get
+my fees."
+
+"Now, beware," said the doctor, shaking his fist playfully.  "I never
+have slain a man wilfully; but if you tempt me there's no knowing what I
+may do when I have you stretched helpless in bed."
+
+"I defy you," cried the curate, laughing.  "See how guilty he looks,
+Mary."
+
+"Hartley!" said Mary reprovingly, and she pressed his shoulder.
+
+"Now that proves it," said the doctor.  "Go to, thou miserable impostor!
+Have I not seen the fair, plump, sweet widow smiling softly on thee?
+Have not I heard her sigh over her soup when you have been laying down
+the law at dinner?"
+
+"Nonsense, nonsense!" said the curate, frowning.
+
+"And have I not seen her look grave when you came to _firstly_ in your
+Sunday sermon; take out her scent-bottle at _secondly_; lean back in
+rapt adoration at _thirdly_; and when it got to _ninthly_ begin to shed
+tears, shake her head softly, and look as if she were mentally saying,
+`Oh, what a sermon we have had.'"
+
+"I say, North, don't banter," said the curate, with a half-vexed
+expression.
+
+"Why, you hit me first.  Didn't he, Miss Salis?"
+
+Mary nodded.
+
+"There, sir.  Judged by our fair Portia herself.  But I must go.
+Good-bye, old fellow.  Chess to-night?"
+
+"By all means," said the curate.
+
+"Here or there?"
+
+"Oh, come on here," cried the curate; and, with a kindly message for Leo
+and a hearty shake of the hand to each, the doctor hurried away.
+
+"I am glad he's back," said the curate seriously.  "Aren't you, Mary?"
+
+"Very," she replied.  "We miss our friends."
+
+"Yes, and he is a good old fellow as ever stepped; so frank, so manly,
+and straightforward.  I don't know what the poor people here would do if
+he were to leave."
+
+"You don't think he will leave?" said Mary anxiously.
+
+"Leave?  Not he.  He likes his old home too well.  I say, though,
+seriously, dear, you don't think he cares for Mrs Berens?"
+
+"Oh, no, Hartley," said Mary, with a confident smile.  "I am sure he
+thinks of nothing but his profession."
+
+"Exactly.  I often think the same, but I often wish something."
+
+"What, dear?" said Mary earnestly.
+
+"That he had taken a fancy to Leo.  It would have been a happy day for
+me to have seen her with such a protector for life."
+
+"Yes," said Mary softly.  "He is a true gentleman at heart."
+
+"Why, Mary," cried the curate enthusiastically, "he never takes a penny
+of any of the poor folk, and he works for them like a slave.  The nights
+I've known him pass at a sick bedside.  Well, thank God, we have such a
+man here."
+
+"Amen," said Mary softly.
+
+"There's Leo," said the curate, as she was seen to pass down one of the
+paths of the garden.  "Mary, my child, if that could be brought about,
+it would be her saving, and make me a happy man."
+
+Mary rested her hands more firmly upon her brother's shoulder, and
+turned to watch her sister; and, as she did so, her sweet, pensive face
+grew more grave and her brother's was averted, so that he could not read
+its secret, neither did he hear the sigh that softly rose as her eyes
+were suffused with tears.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX.
+
+DR NORTH VISITS THE SEXTON.
+
+"Nonsense, Hartley, she is as quiet as a lamb."
+
+"I'm not so sure of that," said the curate, who looked rather anxiously
+at a handsome, weedy grey cob just led round to the front.
+
+His sisters were standing ready to go and make a call, and his brow
+wrinkled a little as he noted a peculiar fidgety expression about the
+mare's ears.
+
+"Why, Hartley, how foolish you are!" cried Leo.  "You stop indoors
+reading till you are as nervous as Mrs Berens."
+
+"Eh?  Yes.  Well, I suppose I am," said the curate good-humouredly.
+"But be careful; I'm always a little uncomfortable about strange mares.
+Will you have an extra rein?"
+
+"Absurd!" said Leo.  "There, you shall be humoured.  Tell him to buckle
+it lower down."
+
+The girl looked very handsome and animated, and, since the scene in the
+wood with Tom Candlish, had been so penitent and patient that her
+brother had shrunk from checking her in any way.
+
+The mare had duly arrived, and, apparently bending to her brother's
+will, Leo had patiently seen it put in harness--degraded, as she called
+it--and as it went very well they were going on the present morning
+drive.
+
+Hartley Salis tried to hide his anxiety, and turned to chat with Mary,
+who looked rather pale--the consequence of a headache, as she said; and
+as he talked he felt more and more between the horns of a dilemma.
+
+Mary did not want to go, he knew.  He did not want her to go, but,
+paradoxical as it may sound, he did want her to go.  For choice he would
+have gone himself; but he knew that if he did Leo would look upon it as
+distrust--not of her power to manage the new mare, but of her word.  For
+she had as good as promised him that she would see Tom Candlish no more,
+and he felt that he was bound to show in every way possible that he
+enjoyed a confidence that he really did not feel.  With Mary to bear Leo
+company he knew that she was safe, and even that would bear the aspect
+of espionage; but the girl had accepted the position, and they were
+ready to start.
+
+The trio were on their way to the gate when the new mare uttered a loud
+whinnying noise which was answered from a distance.  There was the sound
+of hoofs, and directly after North trotted up.
+
+Mary drew a deep breath, and her nervousness in connection with her ride
+was killed by one greater, which forced her to rouse all, her energies,
+so as to be calm during the coming encounter.
+
+"Morning," cried the doctor merrily, as he shook hands with all in turn.
+"Going to try the new mare?"
+
+"Yes," said the curate eagerly, while Leo was quiet and distant, and
+Mary her own calm self.  "What do you think of her?"
+
+The doctor, who, like most country gentlemen who keep a nag, considered
+himself a bit of a judge, looked the mare over, and grew critical.
+
+"Well bred," he said, at the end of a few moments.
+
+"Oh!  I am glad," said Mary, eager to break the chilly silence that
+prevailed.
+
+"I meant by descent," said the doctor merrily.  "I don't know how she
+behaves."
+
+"Oh!" ejaculated Mary, in a disappointed tone, while Leo looked on
+scornfully.
+
+"But she seems quiet?" said the curate anxiously.
+
+"Ye-es," replied the doctor dubiously, as he continued his examination.
+"Rather a wicked look about one eye."
+
+"Don't, pray, Dr North," said Leo petulantly.  "My brother is quite
+fidgety enough about the mare.  She is of course a little more
+mettlesome than our poor old plodding horse; but a child might drive
+her."
+
+"Oh, yes, of course," said the doctor, in a tone which seemed to say,
+"But I would not answer for the consequences."  Then aloud: "Bit swollen
+about that hock.  May mean nothing.  Nice-looking little thing, Salis."
+
+"I'm glad you like her," said the curate eagerly.
+
+"I did not say I liked her, old fellow," replied North.  "I said she was
+well bred."
+
+"But you don't think she is dangerous for ladies?"
+
+"Oh, Hartley!  How absurd!" cried Leo.
+
+"Dangerous? surely not," said the doctor.  "Have tried her yourself, of
+course?"
+
+"Well, no," replied the curate.  "I have been so busy: but the man has
+driven her several times."
+
+"And says she goes very quietly," said Leo pettishly.  "Hartley never
+has any confidence in my driving."
+
+"Indeed, yes," said the curate, smiling at his sister affectionately.
+"I know that you drive well, and are a clever horsewoman.  I am only
+anxious about your driving a strange horse."
+
+"But Leo will be very careful," said Mary, interposing to end a scene
+which was agony to her.  "I am quite ready, Leo."
+
+"Yes, let's go," said the latter.  "Hartley wants to sell you the horse
+at a profit, Dr North," she added banteringly.  "Good morning all."
+
+The curate said no more, but handed his sisters into the light low
+phaeton, Leo taking the reins in the most business-like manner before
+mounting, and then sitting upright on the raised seat in a way that
+would have satisfied the most exacting whip.
+
+The mare started off at a touch, with her neck arched and her head well
+down, the wheels spinning merrily in unison with the sharp trot of the
+well-shaped hoofs.
+
+"An uncommonly pretty little turn-out, old fellow," said the doctor, as
+he sat in the saddle watching critically till the chaise turned the
+corner; "and your sister drives admirably."
+
+"Yes," said the curate rather dolefully; "she drives like she rides."
+
+"And that's better than any lady who follows our pack of hounds," cried
+the doctor.  "Now, if I had been anything of a fellow, I should have
+cantered along by their side, and shown myself off."
+
+"You would," assented the curate; and his countenance seemed to say, "I
+wish you had."
+
+"But, there, I am not anything of a fellow, and I have patients waiting,
+so here goes."
+
+He pressed his horse's flanks, and went off in the other direction at a
+trot, while the curate, with his troubled look increasing, walked into
+the house.
+
+"I suppose the mare's quite safe," he said; "and it pleases her.  May
+take her attention off him.  Poor Leo!  It is very sad."
+
+Meanwhile the doctor continued his way till he reached the stocks--a
+dilapidated set, as ancient-looking as the whipping-post which kept them
+company, and both dying their worm-eaten death, as the custom of using
+them had died generations before.
+
+But they had their use still, the doctor's horse stopping short by them,
+as if he knew his goal, and his master dismounting, and throwing his
+rein over the post before entering a low cottage, with red tile sides
+and thick thatch roof.  The door was so low that he had to stoop his
+head to enter a scrupulously clean cottage room, with uneven red brick
+floor, brightly-polished stove, with a home-made shred hearthrug in
+front, and for furniture a well-scrubbed deal table, a high Windsor
+chair, a beautifully--carved old oaken chest or coffer, and a great,
+old-fashioned, eight-day clock, whose heavy pendulum, visible through a
+glazed hole in its door, swung ponderously to right and said _chick_!
+and then to left and said _chack_!
+
+Empty as the old room was in one respect it was full in another, and
+that was of a faint ancient smell of an indescribable nature.  It was
+not very unpleasant; it was not the reverse; but it had one great
+peculiarity--to wit, that of exciting a desire on the part of a visitor
+to know what it was, till his or her eye rested upon the occupant of the
+tall armed Windsor chair, in which sat Jonadab Moredock, clerk and
+sexton of Duke's Hampton, when the idea came that the strange ancient
+odour must be that of decay.
+
+"Well, old chap, how are we this morning?" said the doctor cheerily.
+
+The red-eyed, yellow-skinned, withered old man placed his hands on the
+arms of his chair, raised himself an inch or two, gave his head a bob,
+and subsided again, as he shook his head.
+
+"Bad, doctor--mortal bad; and if you goes away again like that you'll
+find me dead and buried when back you comes."
+
+"Nonsense, Moredock; there are years upon years of good life in you
+yet."
+
+"Nay, doctor, nay," moaned the old fellow.
+
+"But I say yes.  Why, you're only ninety."
+
+"Ninety-three, doctor--ninety-three, and 'most worn out."
+
+"Nonsense; there's a deal of work to be got out of you yet.  Had your
+pipe?"
+
+"Pipe?  No.  How can a man have a pipe who has no tobacco?"
+
+"Ah well, never mind," said the doctor, "I've brought you some physic."
+
+"Then I won't take it," cried the old man angrily.  "I won't take it,
+and I won't pay for it, not a penny."
+
+"Wait till you're asked," said the doctor drily, as he threw a packet of
+tobacco in the old fellow's lap.  "There's your medicine.  Now say you
+will not take it if you dare."
+
+The old man's red-rimmed eyes twinkled at the sight of the shredded-up
+weed, around which his hand closed like the claws of a hawk.  Then
+rising slowly, he took down from the chimneypiece a curious-looking old
+tobacco-box, which seemed as if it had been hammered out of a piece of
+sheet lead, and began to stuff the tobacco in.
+
+"Where did you get that leaden box?  Moredock?" said the visitor.
+
+"I--I made it," said the old man, with a furtive look.
+
+"Made it!  I thought as much.  Coffin lead, eh?"
+
+"Never you mind about that, doctor.  I found the lead when I was
+digging."
+
+"And did you find that oak chest when you were digging, you old rascal?"
+
+"Nay, nay, nay, that's nowt to do wi' you, doctor.  Physic's your
+business, and not bits o' furnitur' in people's houses."
+
+"Ah, well, we won't quarrel about that, Moredock; only I've taken a
+fancy to that old chest.  I'll buy it of you."
+
+"Nay, you won't, doctor; it isn't for sale."
+
+"Then leave it to me in your will."
+
+"Nay, and I shan't do that.  It's for my grandchild, Dalily, who's up
+yonder at the Rectory, you know--her as had the measles when she was
+seventeen."
+
+"Ah, yes, I know--the dark-eyed, rosy-cheeked hussy.  Lucky girl to
+inherit that chest."
+
+"Ay, but I don't know as she'll get it, doctor.  Hussy!  Yes, that's it.
+That's what she is, and if I see her talking to young Squire Luke
+Candlish's brother, Tom Candlish, again, she shan't have the chest."
+
+"Then I'll set Tom Candlish to talk to her again, and then you'll leave
+it to me."
+
+"Nay, you won't, doctor.  I know you better than that.  But he's a bad
+'un.  So's the squire.  They're both bad 'uns.  I know more about 'em
+than they think, and if Squire Luke warn't churchwarden, I could say a
+deal."
+
+"And you will not?" said the doctor.  "Well, I must be going.  I say,
+though, did you get me that skull?"
+
+"Nay, nay, nay," said the old man, shaking his head, as he lit his pipe,
+and began smoking very contentedly, with his eyes half closed.  "I
+couldn't get no skulls, doctor.  It would be sackerlidge and
+dessercation, and as long; as I'm saxton there shall be nothing of that
+kind at Duke's Hampton.  Bowdles doos it at King's Hampton: but no such
+doings here."
+
+"But I want it for anatomical purposes, my good man."
+
+"Can't help it, sir.  I couldn't do it."
+
+"Now what nonsense; it's only lending me a bone."
+
+"You said sell it to you," said the old man sharply.
+
+"Well, sell it.  I'll buy it of you."
+
+"Nay, nay, nay.  What would Parson Salis say if I did such a thing?
+He'd turn me out of being saxton, neck and crop."
+
+"Ah, well, I won't worry you, old fellow; and I must go now."
+
+"Nay, don't go yet, doctor," cried the old man querulously.  "You
+haven't sounded me, nor feeled me, nor nothing."
+
+"Haven't I given you some comforting medicine?"
+
+"Yes, doctor; bit o' 'bacco does me good; but do feel my pulse and look
+at my tongue."
+
+"Ah, well, let's look," said the doctor, and he patiently examined
+according to rote.  "It's Anno Domini, Moredock--Anno Domini."
+
+"Is it, now, doctor?  Ah, you always did understand my complaint.  If it
+hadn't been for you, doctor--"
+
+"We should have had a new sexton at Duke's Hampton before now, eh?"
+
+"Yes, doctor," said the old man, with a shudder.
+
+"Well, without boasting, old chap, I think I did pull you through that
+last illness."
+
+"Yes, doctor, you did, you did; and don't go away again.  You were away
+seven days--seven mortal days of misery to me."
+
+"Oh, but you're all right," said the doctor, looking curiously at the
+old man.
+
+"Nay, nay, nay.  I thought I should have died before you come back,
+doctor; that I did."
+
+"But you're better now."
+
+"Yes, I'm better now, doctor.  I feel safer-like, and I've got so much
+to do that I can't afford to be ill."
+
+"And die?"
+
+"Nay, nay, nay; not yet, not yet, not yet, doctor!"
+
+"Ah, well, I'm glad I do you good, Moredock; but I think you might have
+lent me that skull."
+
+"You said sell, doctor," cried the old man.
+
+"Of course I should have paid you.  But I suppose I must respect your
+scruples."
+
+"Ay, do, doctor, and come oftener.  Anno Domini, is it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"'Tain't a killing disease, is it, doctor?"
+
+"Indeed but it is, old fellow.  But, there, I'll come in now and then
+and oil your works, and keep you going as long as I can."
+
+"Do, doctor, do, please.  I shall feel so much safer when you've been."
+
+"All right.  Good-day, Moredock."
+
+"Good-day, doctor," said the old man, gripping his visitor's arm tightly
+with a hook-like claw.
+
+"Good-day; and if you do overcome your scruples, I should like that
+skull.  It would be useful to me now."
+
+The old man kept tightly hold of his visitor's arm, and hobbled to the
+door to look out, and then, still gripping hard at the arm, he said in a
+strange, cachinnatory way, as he laid down his pipe:
+
+"He-he-he! hi-hi-hi!  I've got it for you, doctor."
+
+"What?  The skull?"
+
+"Hush!  Of course I have; only one must make a bit o' fuss over it.
+Sackerlidge and dessercation, you know."
+
+"Oh!  I see."
+
+"I wouldn't do such a thing for any one but a doctor, you know.  Anno
+Domical purposes, eh?"
+
+"You're getting the purpose mixed up with your disease, Moredock," said
+the doctor, as the old man took out a key from the pocket of his coat,
+and, after blowing in it and tapping it on the table, prior to drawing a
+pin from the edge of his waistcoat and treating the key as if it were a
+periwinkle, he crossed to the old oak coffer.
+
+"Just shut that door, doctor," he said.  "That's right.  Now shove the
+bolt.  Nobody aren't likely to come unless Dally Watlock does, for she
+always runs over when she aren't wanted, and stops away when she is.
+Thankye, doctor."
+
+He stooped down, looking like some curious old half-bald bird, to unlock
+the chest, and then, after raising the lid a short distance, in a
+cunningly secretive way, he thrust in one arm, and brought out a
+dark-looking human skull.
+
+"Ha! yes," cried the doctor, taking the grisly relic of mortality in his
+hands.  "Yes, that's a very perfect specimen; but it's a woman's,
+evidently.  I wanted a man's."
+
+"You said sell you a skull," said the old man angrily.  "You never said
+nowt about man or woman."
+
+"No.  It was an oversight.  There, never mind."
+
+"Ay, but I do mind," grumbled the old man.  "I like to sadersfy my
+customers.  Give it me back."
+
+"But this will do."
+
+"Nay, nay, nay; it won't do," cried the old man peevishly.  "Give it to
+me."
+
+The doctor handed back the skull, and the old man hastily replaced it in
+the coffer, hesitated a few moments, and then brought out another skull.
+
+"Ah! that's right," cried the doctor eagerly; "the very thing.  How
+much?"
+
+"Nay, nay, nay; I'm not going to commit sackerlidge and dessercation.  I
+can't sell it."
+
+"But you are not going to give it to me?"
+
+"Nay; I only thought as you might put anything you like on the
+chimbley-piece."
+
+"I see," said the doctor, smiling, and placing a small gold coin there,
+the old man watching eagerly the while.  "But I say, Moredock, how many
+more have you got in that chest?"
+
+"Got?--there?" said the old man suspiciously.  "Oh! only them two.
+Nothing more--nothing more."  But the next instant, as if won over to
+confidence in his visitor, or feeling bound to trust him, he screwed up
+his face in a strange leering way and opened the coffer wide.
+
+"You may look in," he said.  "You're a doctor, and won't tell.  They're
+for the doctors."
+
+"Your customers, eh?"
+
+"Customers?" said the old man sharply; "who said a word about
+customers?"
+
+"You did.  So you deal in those things?"
+
+"No, no; not deal in 'em.  I find one sometimes--very old--very old.
+Been in the earth a mort o' years."
+
+As he spoke he watched the doctor curiously while he inspected the
+specimens of osteology in the oak chest.  Then, taking up a tin canister
+from the bottom, he gave it a shake, the contents rattling loudly, and
+upon opening it he displayed it half full of white, sound teeth.
+
+"Dentists," he said, with a grin, which showed his own two or three
+blackened fangs.  "They uses 'em.  False teeth.  People thinks they're
+ivory.  So they are."
+
+"Why, Moredock, what a wicked old wretch you are," said the doctor.  "I
+don't wonder you feel afraid to die."
+
+"Wicked?  No more wicked than my neighbours, doctor.  Every one's afraid
+to die, and wants to live longer.  Wicked!  How could I save a few
+pounds together, to keep me out o' the workus when I grow's old, if I
+didn't do something like this?"
+
+"Ah, how indeed?" said the doctor, looking half-wonderingly at the
+strange old being.
+
+"And my grandchild, Dalily, up at the Rectory.  Man must save--must
+save.  Besides, it's doing good."
+
+"Good, eh?"
+
+"Yes," said the old fellow, with a hideous grin.  "Lots o' them never
+did no good in their lives, and maybe they're thankful now they're dead
+to find that, after all, they're some use to their fellow-creatures."
+
+"Ah!  Moredock, people are always ready to find an excuse for their
+wrong-doing.  Seems to me that I ought to expose you up at the Rectory."
+
+"Nay, you won't tell the parson, doctor?" said the old man, with a
+chuckle.
+
+"No, I shall say nothing, Moredock."
+
+"No, doctor, you can't.  You're in it.  You set me to get that for you."
+
+"There, stop that confounded laugh of yours, and take this quietly to
+the Manor House to-night.  Shall you be well enough?"
+
+"Have--have you got any more o' that Hollands gin, doctor?" whispered
+the old man, with a leer.
+
+"About another glassful, I dare say."
+
+"Then I shall be well enough to come, doctor.  Nobody shall see what it
+is.  And look here: you keep me alive and well, and you shall have
+anything you want, doctor.  Parson's master in the church, but I'm
+master outside, and in the tombs, and in the old Candlish morslem.  Like
+to see in it, doctor?"
+
+"Pah! not I.  See enough of the miserable breed alive without seeing
+them dead.  Good morning."
+
+He remounted his horse, and rode out of the village by the main road, to
+draw rein at a pretty ivy-covered villa, whose well-kept garden and
+general aspect betokened wealth and some refinement.
+
+"Mrs Berens at home?" he asked, as the drag at a bell sent a silvery
+tinkle through the house.
+
+The neat maid-servant drew back with a smile, and the doctor entered,
+and was shown into a pretty drawing-room, where he stood beating his
+boot with his riding-whip, and looking scornfully at the ornaments,
+lace, and gimcracks around.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN.
+
+A FRESH PATIENT.
+
+"I always feel like a fly," the doctor muttered--"a fly alighted upon a
+spider's web.  The widow wants a husband.  I wish some one would snap
+her up."
+
+"Ah! doctor--at last," said a pleasant voice, which sounded as if it had
+passed through swan's-down, while a strong odour of violets helped the
+illusion.
+
+"Yes, at last, Mrs Berens," said the doctor, taking the extended, soft,
+white hand of the pleasant, plump lady of eight-and-thirty or forty,
+whose whole aspect was suggestive of a very pretty, delicate-skinned
+baby grown large.  "Why, how well you look."
+
+"Oh, doctor!"
+
+"Indeed you do.  Why, from your note I was afraid that you were
+seriously ill."
+
+"And I have been, doctor.  In such a low, nervous state.  At one time I
+felt as if I should sink.  But"--with a sigh--"I am better now."
+
+The lady waved her kerchief towards a chair, and seated herself upon an
+ottoman, where, in obedience to the suggestion, she once more laid her
+hand in the doctor's firm white palm, wherein Jonadab Moredock's
+gnarled, yellow, horny paw had so lately lain: and as the strong fingers
+closed over the delicate white flesh, and a couple glided to the soft
+round wrist, the patient sighed.
+
+"Oh, doctor, I do feel so safe when you are here.  It would be too hard
+to die so young."
+
+The doctor looked up quickly.  "Now that's wicked," said the lady
+reproachfully, "because I said `so young.'  Well, I'm not quite forty,
+and that is young.  Is my pulse very rapid?"
+
+"No, no.  A little accelerated, perhaps.  You seem to have been
+fretting."
+
+"Yes, that's it, doctor.  I have," said the lady.
+
+"What a fool I am!" he said to himself, as he released the hand.  Then
+aloud: "I see, I see.  Little mental anxiety.  You want tone, Mrs
+Berens."
+
+"Yes, doctor, I do," she sighed.
+
+"Now what should you say if I prescribed a complete change?"
+
+"A complete change, doctor?" said the lady, whose pulse was now
+certainly accelerated.
+
+"Yes.  That will be better than any of my drugs.  A pleasant little two
+months' trip to Baden or Homburg, where you can take the waters and
+enjoy the fresh air."
+
+"Oh, doctor, I could not go alone."
+
+"Humph!  No.  It would be dull.  Well, take a companion.  Why not one of
+the parson's sisters?  Mary Salis--or, no," he added, quickly, as he
+recalled certain family troubles that had been rumoured.  "Why not Leo
+Salis?"
+
+"Oh, no, doctor," said the lady, with a decisive shake of the head.  "I
+don't think Miss Leo Salis and I would get on together long."
+
+"The other, then," said the doctor.
+
+"No, no.  Prescribe some medicine for me."
+
+"But you don't want medicine."
+
+"Indeed, doctor, but I do.  I'll take anything you like to prescribe."
+
+"But--"
+
+"Now, doctor, I am low and nervous, and you must humour me a little.  I
+could not bear to be sent away.  I should feel as if I had gone over
+there to die."
+
+"When I guarantee that you would come back strong and well?"
+
+"No, doctor, no.  You must not send me away.  Deal gently with me, and
+let me stop in my own nest.  Ah, if you only knew my sufferings."
+
+Dr Horace North felt as if he fully knew, and was content to stand off
+at a distance, for though everything was extremely ladylike and refined,
+and there was a touch of delicacy mingled with her words, he could not
+help interpreting the meaning of the widow's sighs and the satisfied
+look of pleasure which came over her countenance when he was at hand to
+feel her pulse.
+
+"I do know your sufferings," he said gravely, "and you may rely upon me
+to bring any little skill I can command to bear upon your complaint.
+Think again over the idea of change."
+
+"Oh, no, doctor," said the lady quickly.  "I could not go."
+
+"Ah, well, I will not press you," he said, rising.  "I'll try and
+prescribe something that will give you tone."
+
+"You are not going, doctor," said the lady, in alarm.  "Why, you have
+only this moment come."
+
+"Patients to see, my dear madam."
+
+"No, it is not that.  I worry you with my complaints.  I am very, very
+tiresome, I own."
+
+"Nonsense, nonsense," said the doctor; "but really I must hurry away."
+
+"Without seeing my drawings, and the books I have had down from town!
+Ah!  I am sure I bore you with my murmuring.  A sick woman is a burden
+to her friends."
+
+"If some one would only fetch me away in a hurry, I'd bless him,"
+thought the doctor.
+
+"There are times, doctor, when a few words of sympathy would make me
+bear my lot more easily, and--"
+
+"Wheels, by George!" exclaimed the doctor.
+
+"If you only knew--"
+
+"There's something bolted."
+
+"The dead vacancy in my poor heart."
+
+"A regular smash if they don't look out.  Woa, Tom!  Steady, my lad!"
+cried the doctor, opening the French window and stepping out on to the
+lawn.
+
+"Doctor, for pity's sake," sobbed Mrs Berens, in anguished tones.
+
+The patient's voice was so pitiful that the doctor could not resist the
+appeal, and though called as it were on both sides, he stepped rapidly
+back into the little drawing-room in time to catch the fainting widow in
+his arms.
+
+Unfortunately for poor Mrs Berens, who had for long felt touched by the
+young doctor, a lady in distress, mental or bodily, or both, was always
+a patient to Dr North, and he only retained her in his arms just long
+enough to lower her down in a corner of a soft couch, before rushing out
+of the window and through the gate, where his tied-up horse was snorting
+and kicking.
+
+The poor brute had cause, for the rapid running of wheels and beat of
+hoofs were produced by Hartley Salis's phaeton and the new mare, which
+came down the road at a frantic gallop, with Mary clinging to the side
+of the vehicle, pale with dread, and Leo, apparently quite retaining her
+nerve, seated perfectly upright in her place, but unable to control the
+mare, one rein having given way at the buckle hole, and a pull at the
+other being so much madness.
+
+They had come along for quite a mile at a headlong pace, till nearing
+Mrs Berens' house, Leo caught sight of the doctor's cob, which pricked
+up its ears and began to rear and plunge.
+
+To have kept on as they were meant a collision, and there was nothing
+left now for the driver to do but draw gently upon the sound rein.
+
+The pull given was vain, and a sharp one followed, just in time to make
+the half-bred mare swerve and avoid the doctor's cob; but the
+consequence was that the fore wheel of the phaeton caught a post on the
+other side of the road.  There was a crashing sound, a wild scream, and
+the cause of the accident went off at a more furious pace than ever,
+with the shafts dangling and flying about her legs.
+
+"Hurt?  No, not much," cried the doctor, half lifting Leo from the grass
+at the side of the road; and hurrying to where Mary lay staring wildly,
+entangled among the fragments of the chaise.
+
+"My poor child!" he cried.  "Oh, this is bad work.  Try and--Here!  Miss
+Leo--Mrs Berens.  Water--brandy--for Heaven's sake, quick!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT.
+
+"HOW I DO HATE THAT GIRL!"
+
+"Oh! my poor darling!"
+
+It was Mrs Berens who spoke; the accident, and its consequent call upon
+her for aid, having in an instant swept away all thought of self, and
+shown her at once in her best colours, full of true womanly sympathy.
+
+Leo stood leaning against the hedge, dazed and perfectly helpless, while
+Mrs Berens came running out to help; but only to rush in again and
+return with a decanter and water.
+
+"Is she--is she--"
+
+"Hush!" whispered the doctor sternly; "try and pour a few more drops
+between her lips, and keep on bathing her forehead till I get her out."
+
+Mrs Berens was down upon her knees on one side of Mary Salis, with her
+hands and delicate dress bedabbled with blood; but she did not heed the
+dust or hideous stains as she passed her left arm beneath the poor
+girl's neck, and held her with her cut and bruised face resting upon her
+bosom, while the doctor tore hard at the crooked woodwork and iron which
+held the sufferer pinned down.
+
+"Leo Salis," said the doctor impatiently, "if you're not hurt, don't
+stand dreaming there, but run off to the village for help."
+
+Leo stared at him wildly for a moment or two, and then walked hastily
+away, holding her left wrist in her right hand, as if she were in pain.
+
+"Hah!  That's better," cried the doctor, as he set one foot against a
+portion of the iron-work, and pulled with all his might, his effort
+being followed by a loud cracking noise, and the iron bent.  "Now, Mrs
+Berens, I think we can lift her out."
+
+"Yes; let me help," cried the widow energetically, and seeming quite
+transformed as she assisted in bearing the inanimate girl into the
+drawing-room.
+
+"Quick, Mary, pillows," she cried; and her round-eyed, helpless maid ran
+upstairs, to return with the pillows, by whose aid Mary Salis was placed
+in a comfortable position.
+
+Without its being suggested.  Mrs Berens herself fetched basin, sponge,
+and towels, with which the blood and dust were removed, the widow
+colouring once highly as the doctor awarded her a word of praise.
+
+"Cut in the temple.  Hair will cover it," said the doctor, as he rapidly
+dressed the insensible girl's injuries.  "Nasty contusion there on the
+cheek--slight abrasion."
+
+"Will it disfigure her, doctor?" said Mrs Berens anxiously.
+
+"Oh! no--soon disappear."
+
+"What a comfort," sighed the widow, who evidently believed that a young
+lady's face was her fortune.  "Is she much hurt, doctor?"
+
+"No; I am in hopes that she is only suffering from the concussion.  That
+bleeding has been good for her.  She is coming round."
+
+"Poor darling!" cried Mrs Berens, tenderly kissing Mary's hand.
+
+"You're an uncommonly good, useful woman, Mrs Berens," said the doctor
+bluntly.  "I didn't think you had it in you."
+
+"Oh, doctor!" she cried.
+
+"Spoilt your dress and lace too.  But, never mind, it will bring her
+round.  Ah! that's better; she's coming to."
+
+"Is she?"
+
+The doctor pointed to the quivering lips, as the next minute there was a
+weary sigh, and Mary Salis opened her eyes to gaze wildly round, and
+then made an effort as if to rise, but she only raised her head and let
+it fall back with a moan.
+
+"Are you in pain?" said the doctor, as he took her hand.
+
+She looked at him wildly, and a faint colour came into her cheek as she
+whispered hoarsely:
+
+"Yes.  Send--for a doctor."
+
+"He is here, my poor dove," cried Mrs Berens.  "Don't you know him--Dr
+North?"
+
+"Yes; but send--for some one--a doctor."
+
+"A little wandering," whispered North, bending over Mary, who tried to
+shrink from him.  "Now," he said gently, "try and tell me where you feel
+pain.  I must see to it at once."
+
+"No, no.  Don't touch me--a doctor--send for a doctor," answered Mary.
+
+"But Mr North is a doctor, my poor dear," cried Mrs Berens.
+
+"Send--for a doctor," whispered Mary again; and then she uttered a faint
+cry of indignation and dread commingled as, thinking of nothing but the
+case before him, the doctor began to make the necessary preliminary
+examination, to stop short at the end of a minute, and lay his hand upon
+the patient's forehead, aghast at the discovery he felt that he had
+made.
+
+"Don't resent this," he said kindly.  "Believe me, it is necessary, and
+I will not give you more pain than I can help."
+
+"Mrs Berens," sobbed the poor girl, "your hand."
+
+"My darling!" cried the widow, taking the extended hand, to hold it
+pressed against her lips.
+
+"Now, Miss Salis," said the doctor, "I want you to move yourself
+gently--a little more straight upon the couch."
+
+She looked at him strangely.
+
+"Now, please," he said.  "It will be an easier position."
+
+But still she did not move.
+
+"Did you try?" he said rather hoarsely.
+
+"Yes--I tried," she said faintly; and then the flush deepened in her
+face again, as the doctor bent over the couch, and changed the position
+in which she lay.
+
+"Did I hurt you?" he said.
+
+"No.  Did you move me?" she faltered; and Mrs Berens looked at him
+inquiringly.
+
+"Just a trifle," he said gravely.  "Ah! here's Salis."
+
+There was a quick step outside, and the curate rushed in, followed more
+slowly by Leo, who looked ghastly.
+
+"Mary, my dear child," he cried, throwing himself upon his knees beside
+his sister, "are you much hurt?"
+
+"I think not, Hartley, dear," she replied, with a smile.  "My head is
+not so giddy now."
+
+"Oh! what a madman I was to let you go," he cried.
+
+"Hush, dear!  It was an accident," said the poor girl tenderly.  "I
+shall soon be better.  You are hurting Leo.  She suffers more than I."
+
+"That cursed mare, North.  She looked vicious.  How was it, Leo?"
+
+"She pulled, and one of the reins broke," said Leo hoarsely.  "There
+would have been an accident with any horse."
+
+"Yes, yes, of course," said Mary faintly; "and I am very sorry, Hartley.
+The chaise--the expense.  Thank dear Mrs Berens, and now let me try
+and walk home."
+
+"No, no, my dear," said Mrs Berens, "you must not think of going.  Stay
+here, and be nursed.  I'll try so hard to make you well."
+
+"I know you would," said Mary gently; "but I shall be better at home.
+Leo, dear, help me up.  No, no, Hartley; I did not want to send you
+away.  I'm better now."
+
+She made an effort to rise, as the doctor looked on with eager eyes
+awaiting the result, at which his lips tightened, and he glanced at Mrs
+Berens.
+
+For Mary Salis moved her hands and arms, and slightly raised her head,
+but let it fall again, and looked from one to the other wildly, as if
+her perplexity were greater than she could bear.
+
+Hartley Salis caught his friend by the wrist, and then yielded himself,
+and followed the doctor as he moved from the room.
+
+"North, old fellow," he said, in an eager whisper, "what does that mean?
+Is she much hurt?"
+
+"Try and bear it like a man, Salis.  It may not be so bad as I fear, but
+I cannot hide from you the truth."
+
+"The truth!  Good heavens, man, speak out!"
+
+"Hush!  She is too weak from the shock to bear it now.  Let her learn it
+by degrees, only thinking at present that she is nerveless and stunned."
+
+"But you don't mean--Oh, North!" cried the curate, in agony.
+
+"Salis, old friend, it would be cruel to keep back the truth," said the
+doctor, taking his hand.  "It may not be so bad, but I fear there is
+some terrible injury to the spine."
+
+"Good heavens!" cried Salis wildly; "that means paralysis and death."
+
+"Let's hope not, old friend."
+
+"Hope!" cried the curate wildly.  "How has that poor girl sinned that
+she should suffer this?"
+
+At that moment the truth had come home to Mary Salis that her injury was
+terrible in extent, and she lay there gazing wildly at her handsome
+sister, but seeing beyond her in the long, weary vista of her own life a
+helpless cripple, dragging her way slowly onward towards the end.
+
+Then there was a low, piteous sigh, and Mrs Berens came quickly to the
+door.
+
+"Doctor," she whispered, "come back.  Fainted!"
+
+North hurried back into the room, to find Mary Salis lying back, white
+as if cut in marble, while her sister stood gazing at her in silence,
+making no movement to be of help.
+
+"How I do hate that girl!" he muttered, as he went down on one knee by
+the couch.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE.
+
+DR NORTH SEES A WHITE MARK.
+
+Patient never had more assiduous attention than Mary Salis received from
+Dr North.  He had formed his opinions about her case, but insisted upon
+having further advice, and Mr Delton--the old _savant_ of the lecture--
+was proposed.
+
+"I'm afraid he will want a heavy fee, Salis," said North; "but you ought
+to make a sacrifice at a time like this, and his opinion is the best."
+
+"Any sacrifice; every sacrifice," said the curate.  "Send for him at
+once."
+
+Mr Delton came down and held a consultation with North.
+
+He seated himself afterwards by Mary's couch, where she, poor girl, lay,
+flushed, and suffering agony mentally and bodily, consequent upon this
+visit.
+
+But when the grey-headed old man took her hand between both his, and sat
+gazing in her eyes, those eyes brimmed over with tears.  The fatherly
+way won upon her, and she said softly, as she clung to him:
+
+"Tell me the worst."
+
+He remained silent, gazing at her fixedly for some time, but at last he
+raised and kissed her hand.
+
+"I will speak out," he said gently, "because I can read in your sweet
+young face resignation and patience.  To another, perhaps, I should have
+preached patience and hope; to you I feel that it would be a mockery,
+and I only say, bear your misfortune by palliating it with the work your
+intellect will supply."
+
+"Always to be a cripple, doctor--a helpless cripple?" she moaned.
+
+"My child, your life has been spared.  Patience.  What seems so black
+now may appear brighter in time.  You have those you love about you, and
+there is the faint hope that some day you may recover."
+
+"Faint hope, doctor?"
+
+"I must say faint, my child.  And now good-bye.  I shall hear about you
+from our friend North.  I congratulate you on having so able a friend.
+You may trust him implicitly.  Good-bye."
+
+He raised her hand to his lips--a very unprofessional proceeding, but it
+did not seem so to Mary, as she lay there and watched the bedroom door
+close.
+
+"Trust him?  Yes," sighed Mary, as she lay with her hands clasped,
+thinking of Horace North's many kindly attentions to his patient.  "Yes,
+to his patient!" she said bitterly.  "A hopeless cripple!  Oh, God, give
+me strength to bear it without repining.  Good-bye, good-bye, my love--
+my love!"
+
+There was a little scene going on in the dining-room at the Rectory, for
+in spite of Mrs Berens' protestations, Mary Salis had been carried
+home.
+
+The curate had thanked the old surgeon for coming down, and the old man
+had nodded, to stand thoughtfully, hat in hand, gazing out of the window
+with Salis.
+
+"A very sad case, Mr Salis--a very sad case.  So young and innocent and
+sweet."
+
+"Then there is no hope, sir?" said the curate hoarsely.
+
+"Of her regaining her strength, sir?"
+
+"Very little.  But of her recovering sufficiently to lead a gentle,
+resigned, patient life, yes.  You are a clergyman, sir.  I need not
+preach to you of duty.  Ah, Mr North, what about the train?"
+
+"One moment, sir," said the doctor, interrupting the whispered
+conversation he was holding with the curate.
+
+The next minute he had asked the great surgeon a question, and received
+a short decisive answer, which was communicated to Salis.
+
+"But, my dear sir," he said, in remonstrance, "I have brought you down
+here on professional business.  I am not a rich man. but still not so
+poor that--"
+
+"My dear Mr Salis, I am a rich man," said the old surgeon, smiling,
+"and partly from my acquaintance with Dr North, partly from the
+pleasure it has given me to meet your sweet sister, I feel so much
+interest in her case that I must beg of you not to spoil a pleasant
+friendly meeting by introducing money matters.  No, no; don't be proud,
+my dear sir.  I possess certain knowledge.  Don't deprive me of the
+pleasure of trying to benefit Miss Salis."
+
+"He's a fine old fellow as ever breathed," said North, returning to the
+Rectory, after seeing the great surgeon to the station.
+
+"A true gentleman," said the curate sadly.  "How can I ever repay him?"
+
+"He told me--by helping your poor sister to get well."
+
+"Ah!" sighed the curate; "it is a terrible blow."
+
+"Terrible," acquiesced North.  "But she'll bear it, sir, ten times
+better than her sister Leo would.  By the way, I haven't seen her."
+
+"No; I have just been asking about her.  The scene was too painful for
+her, poor girl, and she went out so as to be away."
+
+"Oh!" said North quietly; and then to himself: "I can't bear that girl!"
+
+Just as he spoke he saw Leo Salis enter the meadow gate after her walk,
+and soon after she came into the room, looking perfectly quiet and
+composed.
+
+"What does the London doctor say?" she asked, after shaking hands with
+North.
+
+"Don't ask, Leo," said the curate, with a groan.
+
+"Poor Mary!" said Leo, with a sigh, but she did not seem stirred.  There
+were no tears in her eyes, and she might have been making inquiry about
+the health of some parishioner.
+
+So North thought.
+
+"I'll go up and sit with her now, Hartley," she said quickly, and turned
+to leave the room, when Horace North's eyes became fixed upon a white
+mark at the back of the young girl's sleeve--a mark which looked exactly
+as if her arm had been held by some one wearing a well pipe-clayed
+glove.
+
+The next moment the young girl, the dark sleeve, and the white mark had
+passed from Horace North's sight, and soon after from his mind.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN.
+
+THE DOCTOR PRESCRIBES.
+
+"There, my dear, I shall give you up now," said North one day, about
+three months after the accident.  "Ah! you look bad!"
+
+Mary was downstairs, lying back in an easy-chair, and she coloured
+slightly, and there was a faint gathering of wrinkles on her white
+forehead at his easy-going, paternal way.
+
+"Yes," said Mary.  "Do advise him, doctor.  He is far from well."
+
+"Yes; he's a bad colour," said North bluffly.
+
+"Hadn't you better suggest that I should be painted?" said the curate
+tartly.
+
+"Another bad sign," said North, with a good-tempered look at Mary.  "He
+talks to his old friend in that way.  Bile, Miss Salis--bile."
+
+"It's bother, not bile," cried the curate sharply.  "I beg your pardon,
+old fellow."
+
+"Granted.  But what's the matter?"
+
+"Everything.  I'm troubled about the church matters.  The squire is
+rector's churchwarden, and somehow we don't get on."
+
+"That's a wonder," said the doctor drily.
+
+"Then, I'm in trouble with the rector."
+
+"Why, what's he got to say for himself?  He's nearly always in London,
+so as to be within reach of his club.  It isn't time for him to come
+down and give us another of his sermons, is it?"
+
+"No.  It isn't about that."
+
+"What then?"
+
+"Oh! nothing."
+
+"Come, out with it!"
+
+The curate glanced at Mary, who shook her head slightly, but he went on.
+
+"The fact is, old fellow, May takes upon himself to write me most
+unpleasant, insolent letters.  He learns from some mischief-making body
+that Leo hunts, and I never hear the last of it."
+
+"Humph!  Why not put a stop to it, and sell the mare?"
+
+The curate shook his head.
+
+"I don't like her," said the doctor.  "She'll be getting your sister
+into some fresh scrape."
+
+"Don't talk like that, man.  She has done mischief enough.  What
+nonsense!  Leo can do anything she likes with her now."
+
+"Glad to hear it; and now I want to do what I like with you."
+
+"So you do," said the curate good-humouredly.
+
+"Not quite.  You're horribly snappish.  Sure sign of being a little out
+of order.  I shall prescribe for you."
+
+"Do," said Salis grimly, "and I'll take the medicine and poison some one
+else with it."
+
+"No need; plenty of people are doing that.  Now, look here, you worry
+yourself too much about everyday matters."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+"It is quite true, Mr North," said Mary, smiling.
+
+"There, sir, you hear.  Then you don't take enough exercise."
+
+"Indeed, but I do.  I spend half my time going about."
+
+"Visiting the poor," cried the doctor.  "Harassing yourself with other
+folks' troubles, and listening to endless stories of worry."
+
+"Yes, Mr North, quite true."
+
+"What nonsense, Mary!" cried the curate piteously.  "I must do my duty."
+
+"Of course, my dear sir, so do it; but don't overdo it.  Recipe--"
+
+"I won't take it," said the curate.
+
+"Miss Salis here shall make you, sir.  Recipe: `One good cigar or two
+pipes of bird's-eye per diem, and three hours to be spent in gardening
+or fishing every day.'"
+
+Mary's eyes brightened in forgetfulness of her own trouble as she
+rejoiced in the advice given to her brother.
+
+"It's all rubbish, North.  I've no time to give to fishing or gardening.
+As to the cigar, I might manage that."
+
+"Pills no use without the draught," said the doctor.
+
+"But you a doctor, and prescribe tobacco--a poison!"
+
+"Does people good to poison them a little when they're out of order."
+
+"But May grumbles as it is, and is never satisfied.  What will he say if
+he hears of my smoking, and pottering about with a fishing-rod?"
+
+"Tell May to mind his points at whist and leave us alone.  There, I must
+be off.  Take my advice, too, about the mare.  I shall always hate her
+for the injury she did to poor Miss Salis here.  Good-bye, both of you."
+
+"Stop a minute," said the curate.  "What about yourself?"
+
+"Well, what about myself?"
+
+"The great idea--the crotchet--the cr--"
+
+"Well, say it--the craze, man!  Every inventor is considered a lunatic
+till his invention works.  Wait, my dear fellow--wait.  I may astonish
+you yet.  Good-bye, Miss Salis."
+
+He shook hands, and left the Rectory-parlour with Salis, the saddle
+creaking loudly as he mounted and then rode away.
+
+"Good fellow, Horace," sighed the curate, "but only fit for a West End
+practice, among people with plenty of time and money.  I fancy myself
+smoking on the river bank, throwing flies and pitching in ground bait.
+It's absurd!"
+
+"Poor Miss Salis!" said Mary to herself, as she repeated the doctor's
+sympathetic, pitying words; and it was forced upon her more and more
+plainly in what light he regarded her.  She was his patient--nothing
+more.  No; this was unjust, for he always treated her most warmly--as a
+friend--almost as a sister.
+
+But her old hopes and aspirations seemed to be dead for ever, without
+promise of revival.
+
+At that moment the curate returned.
+
+"Poor Leo!" he said.  "I could not do that," as he again thought of how
+attached she had become to the mare, and how the handsome little
+creature had seemed to divert her attention from the past.
+
+"It would not do, Mary," he said aloud.  "Poor girl!  I seem to have
+been very hard upon her about Tom Candlish, and it would be too bad to
+deprive her of the mare."
+
+"She appears very fond of it," said Mary gravely.
+
+"And the more fond she gets of it the less she thinks about anything
+else, eh?"  Mary was silent.
+
+"She never mentions him to you now?"
+
+"No, Hartley."
+
+"Hah!  That's a good job.  It was hard work and painful; but I nipped
+that in the bud."
+
+Mary was silent, and looked at her brother uneasily.
+
+"Well, what is it, dear?  Not comfortable?"
+
+"Yes, Hartley, I am quite comfortable," said Mary, smiling sadly.
+
+"But you looked at me in a peculiar way.  You don't believe that Leo
+thinks about him now?"
+
+"I don't know, Hartley.  I am not sure."
+
+"Oh! but I am.  It's all right, my dear.  The girl's ideas are quite
+changed now, and I am beginning to be hopeful that she thinks a little
+of North.  Why, my dear Mary, how ghastly pale you do look to-day.  Are
+you worse?"
+
+"No, no, dear; indeed no.  I--I fancy I am getting better."
+
+"That's right; but I am trespassing on you by talking too much.  How
+thoughtless man can be!"
+
+"And how thoughtful," said Mary, as she took his hand in hers, and held
+it to her cheek.  "Don't reproach yourself, Hartley; you give me pain."
+
+The curate bent down and kissed her, and she leaned back and closed her
+eyes, so that her brother should not see how they were suffused with
+tears.
+
+"Patience," she said softly; "give me patience to be unselfish, and bear
+my bitter lot."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN.
+
+JONADAB MOREDOCK SEES A GHOST.
+
+Moredock was better by the next Saturday, and he got up with the
+intention of having a good long day at the church.
+
+"Must keep friends with the doctor," he muttered.  "Can't afford to die
+yet.  So much to do first."
+
+He looked up at his clock, and the clock's sallow round face looked down
+at him, pointing out how time was getting on, and kept on its monotonous
+_chick chack_, as the old pendulum swung from side to side.
+
+"Mornin', old Moredock," cried a cheery rustic voice, and a rough, fair,
+curly head was thrust in at the doorway, the owner of the body keeping
+it carefully outside, as he held in at arm's length an old patched boot,
+which had evidently been soaked in water to allow for a series of great
+stitches to be put into the upper leather.
+
+For the moment it seemed as if Moredock was some grim old idol, carved
+in yellowish-brown wood, as he sat in his chair in the middle of his
+sanctuary, and the new comer was an idolater, bringing him a peace
+offering; but the idea died away as the old man snarled out:
+
+"Mornin', young Chegg.  So you've brought it at last."
+
+"At last!  Well, I haven't had it so very long.  Sixpence."
+
+"Sixpence!  What, for sewing up that crack?"
+
+"Yes, and cheap, too.  Why, I'd ha' charged parson a shilling.  How are
+you?"
+
+"How am I?  Ah! that's it, is it?  That's what you've come for.  Not
+dead yet, Joe Chegg, and they don't want another clerk and saxton for
+the old church."
+
+"Nay--"
+
+"Hold your tongue when I'm speaking.  Think I don't know you.  Want to
+step in my shoes, do you?  Want to marry my grandchild Dally, do you?
+Well, you're not going to while I'm alive, and I'm going to live another
+ten year."
+
+"That's all right," said the young man, rubbing his face with a hard
+hand, much tanned, and coated with wax.  "I don't want you to die."
+
+"Yes, you do," cried the old man fiercely.  "I see you looking me up and
+down, and taking my measure.  Think you're going to dig my grave, do
+you?  Well, you're not going to these ten years to come; and p'r'aps I
+shall dig yours first, Joe Chegg; p'r'aps I shall dig yours."
+
+It was a cool morning, in the hunting season, but the young man
+perspired, and shifted uneasily from foot to foot.
+
+"Oh!  I don't know, Mr Moredock, sir," he muttered awkwardly.
+
+"Then I do," cried the old sexton, dragging his hand out of his
+trousers' pocket.  "There's a fourpenny piece.  Quite enough for your
+job, and I tell you now as I mean to tell you ten year hence, you ain't
+going to be saxton o' Dook's Hampton while Jonadab Moredock's alive, so
+be off."
+
+"I don't want nothing but what's friendly like, Mr Moredock, sir.  I
+thought as when you was out o' sorts I might be a kind o' depitty like,
+to ring the bells for you, and dig a grave for you."
+
+"Ah!" shouted the old man, "that's it--that's what Parson Salis calls
+showing the cloven hoof.  You said it, and you can't take it back.
+You'd like to dig a grave for me."
+
+"I meant to put some one else in," said the young man, staring.
+
+"No, you didn't; you meant to put me in; but I'll live to spite you.
+I'll ring my own bells, and say my own amens and 'sponses, and dig my
+own graves; and if you marry Dally Watlock, not a penny does she have o'
+my money, and I'll burn the cottage down."
+
+The young man wiped his forehead and backed slowly towards the door,
+just inside which he had been standing during the latter part of the
+interview, and as soon as he was outside he hurried away.
+
+"Not going to die yet," muttered the old man.  "I can't and won't die
+yet.  I'll let 'em see.  Doctor said a man's no business to die till
+he's quite wore out, and I'm not wore out yet--nothing like.  I'll show
+'em.  Only wish somebody would die, and I'd show 'em.  Give up, indeed!"
+
+A sharp fit of coughing interrupted the old man, and left him so
+exhausted that he took his seat and leaned back, staring at the fire,
+and only moving at times to put on a lump of coal, till towards evening,
+when he rose and made himself some tea.  Then, putting a piece of candle
+loose in his pocket, with happy indifference to the fact that it was not
+wax, he took a box of matches from the mantelpiece and thrust them in
+with the candle, as he believed, felt in another pocket for his key, and
+trudged off to the church to put things in order for the next day's
+service.
+
+Moredock reached the old lych gate in the dark autumnal evening, passed
+through, and ascended the path, which looked like a cutting in the
+churchyard, six hundred years of interments having raised the ground
+till it formed a bank, while the church itself seemed to have become
+sunken.
+
+Half-way up he struck off along a narrower path which curved round to
+the old iron-studded door in the tower, a door whose hinges resembled
+Norse runes, so twisted and twined was the iron-work.
+
+The heavy old key was inserted, turned, and taken out, and as the door
+yielded to pressure the key was inserted on the other side.  The next
+minute the door was closed and locked, and Moredock stood in the old
+tower, fumbling in the darkness for the horn lantern which stood in a
+stone niche.
+
+The lantern was found, opened, and the piece of candle inserted in the
+socket.  The next thing was a search for the matches, which, however,
+were not found, for they were reposing on the rug in the sexton's
+cottage.
+
+And there he stood fumbling and muttering for some minutes in the total
+darkness, till, believing that the matches must have been left behind,
+he uttered a loud grunt, and prepared to do without.
+
+It was no great difficulty; for, as he stood in the basement of the old
+square tower, with the five bells high above his head, and the ropes
+hanging therefrom, he knew that to his right ran the rickety old flight
+of stairs leading to the different floors and the leads of the tower; on
+his left his tools leaning against the stone wall, and the great
+cupboard in which, in company with planks and ropes, were sundry
+grisly-looking relics, dug up from time to time, but never seen by any
+one but himself; behind him was the door by which he had entered, and
+facing him the lancet-shaped little opening through the tower wall,
+leading into the west end of the church.
+
+It was dark enough where he next stood, for he was beneath the loft
+where the school children and the singers sat on Sundays; but in front
+of him, dimly seen by the great east window being beyond it, and looking
+like an uncouth, dwarf, one-legged monster, was the massive stone font,
+round which he passed slowly, and then walked straight along the centre
+aisle towards the tomb-encumbered chancel, cut off by its antique oaken
+screen.
+
+His steps were hushed by the matting, and the darkness, in spite of the
+windows on either side, was intense behind, though above the old deal
+unpainted pews there seemed to float a dim haze, as if from the great
+east window, as he made his way towards the door on the north side of
+the chancel.
+
+Moredock could have walked swiftly along the church in the dark, and he
+had often done so when he was younger.  He could recall the time, too,
+when he had whistled softly as he went about dusting cushions and
+rearranging hassocks and matting.  But now he had no breath left for
+whistling, and he walked--almost shuffled--along slowly towards the
+vestry, where he had nothing to do but give the gown and surplice a
+shake and hang them up again, and refill the large water-bottle from
+Gumley's pump, which drew water from a well in remarkably close
+proximity to the churchyard.
+
+The big pews shut him in right and left, so that had he been visible to
+any one at a distance, it would have seemed as if a head and shoulders
+were gliding along the church; but there was no one to see him.  All the
+same, though, Moredock could see, and as well as was possible he saw
+something which made him stop short just half-way between the font and
+the eagle lectern, to shade his eyes and gaze towards the chancel.
+
+He did not believe in ghosts.  He had been night and day in that old
+church too many hundred times to be scared at anything--at least so he
+thought.  But perhaps owing to the fact that he had been ill, he was
+ready to be weak and nervous, and hence it was that he stood as if
+sealed to the spot, gazing at a dimly seen head, draped in long folds
+like that of the lady on the old mural slab on the south wall by the
+door.  It was grey and dim as that always seemed in its recess, and as
+it glided along the south aisle it disappeared behind a pillar, all so
+dimly seen as to be next to invisible, and then reappeared in front of
+the pulpit, passed through the screen into the chancel, where it was
+seen a trifle more plainly; and then, as the old man gazed, the draped
+head grew for a moment more distinct, and then seemed to melt into thin
+air.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE.
+
+THE SEXTON'S FETCH.
+
+"Why, Moredock, you are not going to tell me that you believe in
+ghosts?"
+
+"No, doctor, for I don't; and I've been in that church and the vaults
+sometimes all night."
+
+"All night, eh?  What for, eh?"
+
+"That's my business, doctor.  P'r'aps I was on the look out for
+body-snatchers; but I've been there all night, and no ghosts never
+troubled me."
+
+"And yet here you are, all shivering and nervous--too ill to attend
+service this morning; and you tell me you saw something in the church
+last night."
+
+"Ay, and so I did, doctor.  I s'pose I swownded away, I was took so bad;
+and must have laid there for hours before I got up and crawled home; and
+Parson Salis must be in a fine taking this morning, for there's nothing
+done in the church."
+
+"Oh! never mind that, Moredock; Mr Salis is sorry you are ill.  He's a
+good fellow, and he sent me on this morning.  You're a bit nervous and
+shaken at what you fancied you saw.  Come, Moredock, old man, I'm a
+doctor, and you're a sexton, and we're too much men of the world--we've
+seen and known too much--to be afraid of ghosts, eh?"
+
+"Ghosts!  Sperits!  I'm afraid of no ghosts, doctor; but I see that
+thing o' Saturday night."
+
+"Thought you saw it, old chap!"
+
+"Nay, doctor, I saw it; and that's what scares me."
+
+"Pooh!  You scared at something you saw--a hollow turnip and a sheet!  A
+trick played by some scamp in the village."
+
+"Trick played?  Nay, doctor; there isn't a lad in the village dare do
+it.  I know 'em.  I aren't scared at the thing I saw.  It's at what it
+means."
+
+"What it means!  Then, what does it mean?"
+
+"Notice to quit this here earthly habitation, as parson calls it,
+doctor.  That's what it means."
+
+"Rubbish!"
+
+"Ah! you say that to hide your bad work, doctor, and because you know
+you arn't done your duty by me."
+
+"Why, you ungrateful old humbug!  I've done no end for you.  Haven't I
+gone on oiling your confounded old hinges for years past, to keep you
+from dropping off, rusted out?"
+
+"Ah!  I don't say anything again that, doctor; but you've always thought
+me a poor man, and you've treated me like a poor man--exactly like.  If
+you'd thought me well off, and you could send me in a big bill, you'd
+have had me in such condition that I shouldn't have seen my fetch last
+night."
+
+"Seen your grandmother, man."
+
+"Ay, you may laugh, doctor; but what have you told me over and over
+again?  `Moredock,' says you, `a healthy man's no business to die till
+he's quite worn out.'  And `What age will that be, doctor?' says I.
+`Oh! at any age,' says you; and here am I, a hale, hearty man, only a
+little more'n ninety, and last night I see my fetch."
+
+"But you're not a hale, hearty man, Moredock."
+
+"Tchah!  Whatcher talking about?  Why, I'd 'bout made up my mind to be
+married again."
+
+"You?  Married?  Why, even I don't think of such a thing."
+
+"You?  No," said the old man, contemptuously.  "You're not half the man
+I've been.  My son's gal--Dally Watlock's 'fended me, and if she don't
+mind she'll lose my bit o' money."
+
+"You take my advice, Moredock, and don't marry."
+
+"Shan't leave you nothing, if I don't marry, doctor," said the old man,
+with a cunning leer; "and you needn't send in no bills because you've
+found out I've got a bit saved up."
+
+"Why, you wicked old ruffian, I suppose you've scraped together a few
+pounds by trafficking in old bones, and of what you've robbed the
+church."
+
+"Never you mind, doctor, how I got it, or how much it is."
+
+"I don't; but just you be wise, sir.  You're not going to marry again,
+and you're going to leave your money to your grandchild."
+
+"Eh?  What--what?  Do you want to marry her?"
+
+"No, I don't, Moredock; but if you don't behave yourself, hang me if I
+come and doctor you any more.  You may send over to King's Hampton for
+Dr Wellby, or die if you like: I won't try and save you."
+
+"No, no, no; don't talk like that, doctor--don't talk like that,"
+whimpered the old man; "just now, too, when I'm so shook."
+
+"Then don't you talk about disinheriting your poor grandchild.  Come,
+hold up, Moredock!  I didn't mean it.  There's nothing much the matter."
+
+"Ah! but there is, doctor.  I saw my fetch last night."
+
+"No, you did not.  You were not strong enough to go up to the church,
+and you fancied you saw something."
+
+"I see it."
+
+"Well, suppose you did.  Some one had gone into the church to fetch a
+hymn-book, or put in a new cushion."
+
+"Nobody couldn't, but me and parson, and squire and you.  I see it, and
+it was my fetch."
+
+"No, no, old fellow; you're mistaken.  You were in the dark, and your
+head weak."
+
+"I see it, and it was my fetch, doctor."
+
+"Very well, then, Moredock, it was your fetch; but we won't let it fetch
+you for some years to come.  What do you say to that?"
+
+"Ah! now you're talking sensible, doctor," cried the old man,
+brightening up.  "Look here, doctor, you do what's right by me, and let
+me have the best o' stuff--good physic, you know--and there isn't
+anything I won't do for you.  A skull, or a bone of any kind, or a whole
+set, or--"
+
+"There, that will do, Moredock.  I'll do my duty by you, and I don't
+want any reward."
+
+"No, you don't.  You're a good fellow, doctor; and you do understand my
+complaint, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, thoroughly.  There, sit back in your chair, and keep quiet.  Mr
+Salis is coming in to see you by-and-by."
+
+"Nay, nay, nay!  I don't want he.  It makes a man feel as if he's very
+bad when parson comes to see him."
+
+"Why, I'm sure he's a thoroughly good friend to you, old fellow."
+
+"Oh! yes, he's right enough; but as soon as ever he comes in this here
+room, he'll begin talking to me about what a sinner I've been."
+
+"Well, quite right, too."
+
+"Maybe, doctor, maybe," said the old man, bursting into a loud
+cachinnation; "but he don't know everything, doctor, do he?  If he did,
+he'd lay it on thicker; and he wouldn't be quite so friendly with you."
+
+"Come, come, Moredock," said the doctor, laughing.  "Suppose we leave
+professional secrets alone, eh?"
+
+"Ay, ay, doctor, we will.  I don't forget what you've told me; but do go
+and tell parson I'm a deal better, and that he needn't come."
+
+"Why?  A visit won't do you any harm."
+
+"Maybe not, doctor--p'r'aps not; but as soon as he comes he'll want to
+read me a chapter and then pray over me; and I'm that soaked with it
+all, after these many years, that I haven't room for no more."
+
+"But, Moredock--"
+
+"There, it's of no use for you to talk.  Think I don't know!  Why, I
+know more chapters and bits of the sarvice by heart than half-a-dozen
+parsons."
+
+"Ah, well!  I'll send you a bottle of mixture as soon as I get home, so
+sit up and make yourself comfortable."
+
+"May I smoke my pipe, doctor?"
+
+"Oh, yes, as long as you like, man.  You're not bad; and take my advice:
+just you forget all about your fetch, as you call it, and don't go to
+the church any more in the dark."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
+
+AFTER CHURCH.
+
+The doctor left the sexton's cottage, thinking deeply on the way in
+which the brain is affected by the weakness of the body.
+
+"Poor old fellow!" he muttered; "nearly a hundred years old, and
+clinging to life more tightly than ever.  Believes he saw something, of
+course.  Not fit to go out alone.  But he'll pull round, and perhaps
+last for years.  Wonderful constitution, but also an exemplification of
+my pet theory.  Humph! coming out of church.  Well, I must meet 'em, I
+suppose.  Hallo! what's going to happen?  Has Salis converted the pair
+of reprobates?  Morning, Squire; morning, Mr Candlish."
+
+He shook hands--professionally, as he called it--with the young squire
+and his brother, who were just out of church, and walked slowly on with
+them, discussing the hunt, election matters, and the state of the
+country.
+
+"Why don't you hunt more, doctor?" said the squire, a florid,
+fine-looking man, singularly like his brother, but more athletic of
+build.
+
+"Want of time," said the doctor good-humouredly.  "Too many irons in the
+fire."
+
+"You work too hard.  But look here--don't be offended; I've always a
+spare mount or two when you are disposed for a gallop."
+
+"Thanks; I'll ask one of these days--which never come," the doctor added
+to himself.  "And now, good-day."
+
+"No, no; come on, and have a bit of dinner with us--early dinner
+to-day."
+
+"Thanks--no; I've a patient or two to see, and I want a word with the
+parson."
+
+"We don't," said the squire; "eh, Tom?  We've had ours."
+
+Tom Candlish scowled.
+
+"Well, always glad to see you, doctor--non-professionally," said the
+squire; and they went on, while North turned back to meet Salis,
+wondering why Tom Candlish had condescended to come to church.
+
+"To stare at Leo, I'll be sworn, and Salis must have felt it.  I'll be
+bound to say he made a dozen mistakes in the service this morning
+through that fellow coming.  And, as for the squire--that young man
+drinks, and he had better look out, or Moredock will have a grand
+funeral to attend."
+
+"Good morning, doctor.  Were you coming to see me?"
+
+"Ah, Mrs Berens!  I beg your pardon; I didn't see you."
+
+"No, doctor, you never do seem to see me.  You forget your most anxious
+patients," said the lady pathetically.
+
+"But, really, you did not send me word."
+
+"No, I did not send you word.  I lived in hope of your coming."
+
+"Thank goodness!" thought the doctor.  "This woman is growing
+dangerous."
+
+His pious ejaculation was consequent upon the fact that his friend, the
+curate, was approaching in company with Leo.
+
+Mrs Berens became aware of the fact at the same time, and though she
+uttered no pious ejaculation, she was equally pleased, for two reasons.
+
+The first was that through the past two hours she had been seated in the
+same building with Leo Salis; the pews were high, and Leo could only
+have seen the top of her bonnet, whereas the handsome widow did not go
+to great expense for the most fashionable _modes et robes_, as the
+dressmakers express it, for nothing.  The most elegant head-gear, though
+it may afford some satisfaction to the wearer, is hardly worth wearing,
+unless it be envied by those of the one sex and admired by the other.
+This encounter with the doctor would give handsome Leo a good
+opportunity for envious glances, and as Mrs Berens could not rival her
+neighbour in contour, she would have some chance of standing upon an
+equal footing.
+
+The other reason was that she wished the curate to come up and speak to
+her at the same time as she was talking to the doctor.  For Mrs Berens
+was not deeply in love; she only wished to be.  The doctor and the
+curate were both fine, manly fellows, to either of whom she would have
+been willing to give herself and fortune; but somehow they had both been
+terribly unimpressionable, and though she had shown as plainly as she
+dared, any time during the past year, the tenderness waiting to burst
+forth, she was still Mrs Berens, and twelve months older.
+
+Here was an opportunity of playing one-off against the other; for men
+could often be stirred, she knew, into learning the value of something
+when they saw that it was gliding from their grasp.
+
+The couple from the Rectory came up, and Mrs Berens felt a pang as,
+after her warm salutations, in which her hand had rested in that of the
+curate for a few moments, to receive nothing more than a frank, friendly
+pressure, she saw that of Leo Salis rest in the doctor's longer than she
+considered prudent.  Leo seemed unusually handsome, too, that morning.
+There was a bright flush on her cheeks; her eyes sparkled, and she
+looked twenty, while Mrs Berens felt that she looked nearly forty.
+
+Salis was glad of the encounter, for it was true that he had been making
+mistakes that morning.  The very fact that Tom Candlish was in the
+church was disturbing, and when he knew that he must have come--he could
+not believe otherwise--expressly to stare at Leo, the presence of the
+man whom he had thrashed in so unclerical a way acted on his thoughts as
+a pointsman acts over trains at a busy junction--sent them flying in
+different directions beyond the drivers' control.
+
+The curate's colour was heightened, for he knew that he had appeared at
+a disadvantage before the more thoughtful of his congregation.  He was
+anxious, too, about Leo, who looked excited, and he dreaded any renewal
+of the past trouble; so that the encounter was satisfactory, if only
+from the fact that it afforded temporary relief from worrying thoughts
+and cares.
+
+Mrs Berens was sweetness itself to all, and Leo seemed to rouse herself
+to be pleasant to the doctor, the result being that Mrs Berens was seen
+home--to part most affectionately from Leo, and with most tenderly
+friendly pressures of the hand to the gentlemen; after which she hurried
+into her room, to tear off her new bonnet and indulge in a passionate
+burst of sobbing.
+
+"She's as deceitful as she is young," she cried.  "She has thrown over
+Tom Candlish, and now she is winning over that foolish doctor; while
+Hartley Salis is as immovable as a stone.
+
+"I'll be even with her," she cried.  "Either Tom Candlish or the squire
+would be glad to marry me.  I'll have one of them, and I'll make her
+half die with envy by asking her to my house, and--yes, there they go,
+and Horace North is going into the house with them.  Ugh! the monster!
+He deserves to have the doorstep sink beneath his feet.  But I'll be
+revenged.  No, no, no! they're too bad," she sobbed; "but I couldn't
+stoop to that."
+
+Mrs Berens subsided into an easy-chair, to go on reddening her eyes;
+while the doctor accompanied his friends to the Rectory, and stopped
+chatting for a few minutes, but refused another invitation to dine even
+when Mary Salis and Leo both added their persuasions.
+
+"No," he said, "I've promised old Moredock his dose, and I'm going to
+see that he has it."  And then, after a few kindly words to Mary
+concerning her health--words that were almost tender, but which seemed
+to burn and sear the poor girl, as she read them aright--he went away,
+to hurry to his surgery in the Manor House.
+
+"I'm very glad, for poor old Hartley's sake, that the affair's all off.
+It is, evidently; for Madam Leo seemed as cool as could be, and she's as
+handsome and ladylike a girl as a man need wish to call wife.  Humph!
+I'll give him a little chloral--just a suspicion--to calm him down.
+Poor old boy! and he thinks he's going to die.  Well, it's my theory,"
+he continued, as he compounded the sexton's mixture and carefully corked
+it up; "and, think about it from whichever point I may, it seems to be
+quite right.  There, Master Moredock, there's your dose.  That will lay
+any ghost in the United Kingdom, given sufficiently strong!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
+
+HOW HORACE NORTH DID NOT GO TO THE MEET.
+
+"What a morning for a run with the hounds!" said Horace North, as he
+stood at the door of the fine old Manor House, where he had come to cool
+himself, after a scene with Mrs Milt, his housekeeper, owing to a
+committee of ways and means.
+
+Mrs Milt had wanted to have everything her way.  The doctor had shown a
+desire to have everything his way, and the approach of the two forces
+had resulted in an explosion.
+
+"Candlish offered me a mount, and I've a good mind to take the offer,
+just for once.  A good gallop would do me a world of good.  No; I'll go
+and have a chat with old Moredock, see Mrs Berens, Biddy Tallis, and
+Brown's baby, and then settle down to a good, quiet study.  Hah!"
+
+Horace North was dubious.  A slight puff upon his vane would have sent
+it in either direction, and it seemed as if the decisive puff came just
+then in the shape of something as light as air.  For there was the sound
+of hoofs; and directly after, looking exceedingly handsome in her
+tightly-fitting riding-habit and natty hat, Leo Salis passed on her
+pretty mare.
+
+She caught sight of him, and returned a coquettish nod and smile to his
+low bow, but did not draw rein, though she must have seen his intention
+to hurry down to the gate; cantering gently on, as charming a specimen
+of early womanhood as ever rode gracefully upon a well-bred mare.
+
+"By George! that settles it," said the doctor.  "Where's the meet?"
+
+He hurried in, snatched up the county paper, and found that it was at
+Fir Tree Hill, four miles beyond the Hall.
+
+"The very thing," he cried.  "I'll just get on my boots, and walk over
+to the Hall, get my mount, and go on.  No, I won't; I'll drive."
+
+He rang the bell, and Mrs Milt--a very severe-looking, handsome,
+elderly lady--in the whitest of caps, bibs, and tuckers, appeared
+frowning, as if still charged with the remaining clouds of the late
+storm.
+
+"Tell Dick to put the horse in the chaise."
+
+Mrs Milt tightened her lips, and made parallel lines in her forehead,
+but did not stir.
+
+"Well?" said the doctor.
+
+"Well?" said Mrs Milt.
+
+"Did you hear what I said?"
+
+"Perfectly," said Mrs Milt.
+
+"Then, why don't you do it?  And for Heaven's sake, my dear Mrs Milt,
+let's have no more of this petty squabbling.  Discharge cook; have a
+fresh house-maid; paper and clean up, and do whatever you please, but
+don't bother me."
+
+"It is not my wish to bother you, Dr North," said the lady austerely,
+and with considerable emphasis on the word, "bother."
+
+"Very well, then, let's have peace.  Such a scene as we had this morning
+interferes with my studies.  Now, go and tell him to put to the horse."
+
+"Will you be good enough to tell me how, Dr North?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"You sent your man in that chaise to fetch some drugs from King's
+Hampton."
+
+"Hah! so I did.  He ought to be back by now.  Yes; there are wheels."
+
+"The carrier," said Mrs Milt.
+
+"Pish! of course.  Never mind, I'll walk.  There's something else
+coming," he said, listening.  "Yes; that's the chaise.  Go and tell Dick
+not to take out the horse, but to come round here."
+
+"He's coming round," said Mrs Milt, going to the window; "and there's a
+gentleman with him."
+
+The doctor looked up hastily, and frowned, as he caught sight of a dark,
+sleek-looking personage, about to descend from the chaise; while, as
+Mrs Milt went to open the door, Horace North exclaimed to himself:
+
+"Now, why in the world is it that Nature will set one against one's
+relations, and above all against Cousin Thompson, for--"
+
+"Ah! my dear Horace, this was very good and thoughtful of you,"
+exclaimed the object of his thoughts, entering the room with extended
+hands.
+
+"Ah!  Thompson, glad to see you," said the doctor, innocently enough--
+for the lie was from habit, not intentional--"but you are not cyanide of
+potassium!"
+
+"Sure I'm not, indeed; but I want to consult you."
+
+"I sent in my man for a portion of that unpleasant chemical; not to meet
+you."
+
+"Well, it doesn't matter, my dear boy.  I was coming down, and I saw
+your chaise; and I know you like me to make myself at home, so give me
+some breakfast."
+
+"Yes, of course.  Run down this morning?"
+
+"Yes, by the six-thirty from Paddington.  Early bird gets the first
+pick, you know."
+
+"There goes my gallop," groaned the doctor, as a mental vision of Leo
+Salis appeared before him, while he rang the bell.
+
+"Not ill, are you?  Come to consult me?"
+
+"No, I'm not ill; but I have come to consult you, my dear Horace."
+
+"Did you ring, sir?"
+
+"Yes, Mrs Milt; my cousin would like some breakfast."
+
+"I am getting it ready, sir; but it can't be done in two minutes and a
+half."
+
+"No, no, of course not, Mrs Milt.  Thank you.  Send word when it's
+ready."
+
+"I'll bring word myself, sir," said Mrs Milt austerely.
+
+"No, don't trouble, my dear Mrs Milt," said Cousin Thompson, who looked
+so sleek in skin and black cloth that he shone; "a cup of coffee and a
+sole, cutlet--anything."
+
+"Sole! cutlet!  My dear fellow, this isn't London.  Give him some ham
+and eggs, Mrs Milt," said the doctor.  "Now, old fellow," he continued,
+as the door closed after the housekeeper a little more loudly than was
+necessary, "business: what's the matter?  Liver?"
+
+"No, no, my dear Horace.  I'm quite well.  To consult you about Mrs
+Berens."
+
+The doctor pushed back his chair.
+
+"Why, how surprised you look!  You recommended her to come to me about
+her money affairs."
+
+"Oh!  Ah!  Yes, of course; so I did.  She asked me to give her the name
+of a London solicitor, and so I gave her yours--my cousin's."
+
+"It was very good of you, Horace, for I am a poor man," said the visitor
+sleekly.  "Far be it from me to quarrel with Uncle Richard's
+apportionment of his money, but--"
+
+"There, for goodness' sake, don't bring that up again!  You know why the
+old man excluded you."
+
+"Yes.  I had the misfortune to offend him, Horace," said the visitor
+with a sigh.
+
+"And now what about Mrs Berens?"
+
+"Ah, yes; a very simple matter.  You are a great friend of hers?"
+
+"I am her doctor."
+
+"Yes, yes," said the other, with an unpleasant chuckle, which made North
+long to kick him; "but if report is true, you are going to marry the
+handsome widow."
+
+"Then report is not true," said North angrily.  "Now to business."
+
+"Well, the fact is this," said the visitor; "in my capacity of
+confidential solicitor to several people, I often have to give advice,
+and to raise money."
+
+"No doubt," said the doctor drily.
+
+"I have a client now who wants rather a heavy sum upon the security of
+some leasehold houses.  Mrs Berens has money lying in the Three per
+Cents., and I thought that you, as her friend, might advise her.  She
+would get six per cent, instead of three, and a word from you--"
+
+"Will never induce a lady patient of mine to run any risks," said the
+doctor shortly.
+
+"Risks?"
+
+"Breakfast's ready," said the doctor abruptly, and he led the way into
+the other room.  Having sufficient wisdom not to recommence the attack,
+Cousin Thompson contented himself with breakfasting heartily, but he was
+not pleasant over his feeding; and, what was more, he had a way of
+bringing into every room he entered an odour of mouldy parchment.
+
+After breakfast Cousin Thompson had an interview with Mrs Berens; and
+after that, without consulting his cousin, he walked across to the Hall
+to hold a meeting, not unconnected with money matters, with Tom
+Candlish.  Had he consulted his cousin, he would have known that in all
+probability Tom Candlish had gone to the meet, especially as he rarely
+missed a run.
+
+Consequently, Cousin Thompson returned to the doctor's, to find him
+chafing over his disappointment.  Not that he was a hunting man; but the
+whim had seized him to go, and the appearance of Leo Salis had helped to
+make the ride more attractive than it might have appeared at another
+time.
+
+"Ah, Horace, my dear fellow," he said, "I shall have to trespass on your
+hospitality for dinner, and then ask you to give me a bed."
+
+"All right," said the doctor gruffly.  "Give you a dose too, if you
+like."
+
+"Thanks, no, unless you mean wine."
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll give you a glass of port," said the doctor.  "I hope you
+haven't persuaded that poor woman to invest in anything risky."
+
+"Now, my dear Horace, what do you take me for?" cried Cousin Thompson.
+
+"A lawyer."
+
+"But there are good lawyers and bad lawyers."
+
+"Well, from a legal point of view, you're a bad lawyer.  I never gave
+you but one case to conduct for me, and that you lost."
+
+"The barrister lost it, my dear Horace.  Don't be afraid.  I am not a
+legal pickpocket.  I might retaliate, and say you're a bad doctor."
+
+"Well, so I am--horribly bad.  The amount of ignorance that exists in my
+brain, sir, is truly frightful."
+
+"But you go on curing people."
+
+"Trying to cure people, sir, you mean.  Wading about in deep water;
+groping in the darkness.  Thank Heaven, sir, that you were not made a
+doctor.  Eh, what is it--some one ill?" he cried, as Mrs Milt entered
+the room with a note.
+
+"Poor somebody!" said Cousin Thompson to himself.
+
+"Note from the Rectory, sir."
+
+"Oh!" ejaculated the doctor; "shan't be able to go, as you are here.
+Wants me to play a game at chess.  Salis, you know."
+
+As he spoke he leisurely unfastened the envelope, and began to read.
+
+"Good heavens!" he exclaimed.  "Mrs Milt, attend to my cousin as if I
+were here.  Very sorry.  Serious case," he continued, turning to his
+guest; and the next minute he had hurried from the house, to set off
+almost at a run for the Rectory.
+
+For Hartley Salis' note was very brief, but none the less urgent,
+containing as it did these words:
+
+"For Heaven's sake, come on!  Leo has had a serious fall."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
+
+A REFRACTORY PATIENT.
+
+Leo made light of her accident, though her shoulder was a good deal
+hurt, and she bore the bandaging of what was a serious wrench with the
+greatest fortitude.  As North learned by degrees, there had been a
+magnificent run, but towards the last, when Leo was almost heading the
+field, the mare had become unmanageable, and had rushed at a dangerous
+jump, with the result that she fell, threw her rider on the bank of the
+deep little river, and, in her efforts to rise, entangled herself with
+Leo's habit, and rolled with her right into the water.
+
+"A most providential escape," said Salis, who looked pale with anxiety.
+
+"What nonsense, Hartley!" said the girl; "a bit of a bruise on the
+shoulder and a wetting."
+
+"Yes, but you would have been drowned if the gentlemen of the hunt had
+not galloped up to your aid."
+
+"But they always do gallop up to a lady's aid if her horse falls," said
+Leo, speaking excitedly.  "There, don't make so much of it; and it was
+utterly absurd, Hartley, for you to send for a doctor for such a
+trifle."
+
+"Trifle or no, Miss Salis," said the doctor, "I should advise your
+seeking your bed at once."
+
+"Nonsense, Dr North!"
+
+"Well, then, I must insist," he said firmly.
+
+"Oh, very well," said Leo; "I suppose you are master, so I have no more
+to say.  A little girl has had an accident, and so they put her to bed.
+Fudge!"
+
+"Leo, dear," said Mary, from her couch, "pray be advised.  Dr North
+would not wish it if it were not necessary."
+
+"Certainly not," said North shortly, for he was annoyed at Leo's
+flippant manner, and ready to wonder why he had felt attracted that
+morning.
+
+"What nonsense, Mary!" cried Leo.  "Pray don't you interfere."
+
+Mary sighed, and remained silent.
+
+"Well, as you please," said North.  "I have given you good advice: act
+as you think best."
+
+He turned to go, but was followed into the hall by the curate.
+
+"Come into my room," said the latter, with a pained and perplexed look
+in his face.  "This is very sad, old fellow."
+
+"What? being guardian to a couple of giddy girls?" said the doctor
+petulantly.  "No, no: I beg your pardon; don't take any notice of my
+bitter way; but really, Salis, old boy, you had better have got rid of
+that mare."
+
+"Yes, I wish I had," said the curate sadly; "but Leo seems to take such
+pleasure in it--and who could foresee such a mishap as this?"
+
+"I could," said the doctor shortly.  "Good thing she was not killed."
+
+"You don't think the hurt serious?"
+
+"Serious?  No.  Give her a good deal of pain, of course."
+
+"And the chill?"
+
+"What chill?"
+
+"The plunge into the river after a heated ride."
+
+"She changed her things at once, of course?"
+
+"No," said the curate.  "It seems that out of bravado she insisted on
+mounting again, and then rode slowly home.  She was shivering when she
+came in."
+
+"Why was I not told all this before?" said North sharply.  "Look here,
+Salis, old fellow; she must go to bed directly, and take what I send
+her.  Exercise your authority, or she will have a very serious cold."
+
+He hurried away, and did not send the promised medicine, but took it
+himself, leaving it with emphatic instructions as to its being taken;
+and the result was that Leo Salis laughed at the supposed necessity, as
+she termed it, and calmly declined to follow out the doctor's views.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
+
+"I AM NOT ILL."
+
+Hartley Salis did not tell the doctor the whole of his trouble, neither
+did he say a word to Mary upon the subject; but she divined the cause of
+his auger as she lay helpless there, and sighed as she wished that she
+could set matters right.
+
+For Tom Candlish had ridden home with Leo, and parted at the gate.
+
+"I might have known that they would meet," said Salis, as he sat
+thinking; "but I never imagined that he would have the assumption to
+come again to the house."
+
+But Tom Candlish had helped Leo when she was in great peril of being
+drowned; and as the curate learned this he felt his impotence, and was
+coldly courteous, while, on his side, Tom Candlish was defiant, almost
+to the point of insolence; and his manner to Leo seemed intimate enough
+to startle Salis, and make him wonder whether they had met since the
+scene at the river-side.
+
+Hartley Salis soon had something to divert his attention from this
+point, for the next day Leo was not very well.  She was tired, she said.
+It had been a very long run, but delightful all the same; and she
+allowed now that perhaps it would have been better if she had listened
+to the doctor's advice.
+
+"I shall be quite well to-morrow," she cried.  "Why, Hartley, how
+serious you look!"
+
+"Do I?" he said, smiling, for he had been communing with himself as to
+whether he should ask Leo plainly if she had kept her word.
+
+"Do you?  Yes!" she cried angrily; and, without apparent cause, she
+flashed out into quite a fit of passion.  "I declare it is miserable now
+to be at home.  It is like living between two spies."
+
+"My dear Leo!" began Salis.
+
+"I don't care: it is.  Mary here watches me as a cat does a mouse.  You
+always follow me about whenever I stir from home; and then you two
+compare notes, and plot and plan together how to make my life a burden."
+
+"Leo, dear," said Mary gently, "you are irritable and unwell, or you
+would not speak like this."
+
+"I would.  I am driven to it by my miserable life at home.  I am treated
+like a prisoner."
+
+"Leo, my child," began Salis.
+
+"Yes, that's it--child!  You treat me as if I were a child, and I will
+not bear it.  Anything more cruel it is impossible to conceive."
+
+"Nonsense, dear," said Salis, smiling gravely, as he took his sister's
+hand.
+
+She snatched it away; not so quickly, though, but that he had time to
+feel that it was burning hot, as her scarlet cheeks seemed to be, while
+her eyes were unusually brilliant.
+
+It was no time to question or reproach, and the curate set himself to
+soothe.
+
+"Why, Leo, my dear," he said, smiling.  "I shall begin to think you are
+cross."
+
+"If you mean indignant," she retorted, "I am.  My very soul seems to
+revolt against the wretched system of espionage you two have established
+against me."
+
+"No, no, Leo, dear!" said Mary.  "How can you say such things of
+Hartley, whose every thought is for your good?"
+
+"Good--good--good!" cried Leo; "I'm sick of the very word!  Be good!  Be
+a good girl!  Oh! it's sickening!"
+
+Salis made a sign to Mary to be silent, but Leo detected it.
+
+"There!" she cried, with her eyes flashing.  "What did I say?  You two
+are always plotting against me.  Ah!"
+
+She shivered as from a sudden chill, and drew her chair closer to the
+fire.
+
+"Do you feel unwell, dear?" said Salis anxiously.
+
+"No, _no_, no!  I have told you both a dozen times over that I am quite
+well.  It is a cold morning, and I shivered a little.  Is there anything
+extraordinary in that?"
+
+"I only felt anxious about you, dear."
+
+"Then, pray don't feel anxious, but let me be in peace."
+
+She caught up a book, and tried to read; while, to avoid irritating her,
+Salis and Mary resumed their tasks--the one writing, the other busy over
+her needle; and to both it seemed as if they were performing penance, so
+intense was the desire to keep on glancing at Leo, while they felt the
+necessity for avoiding all appearance of noticing her.
+
+She held her book before her, and appeared to be reading, but she did
+not follow a line; for the letters were blurred, and a curious, dull,
+aching sensation racked her from head to foot, rising, as it were, in
+waves which swept through her brain, and made it throb.
+
+This, with its accompanying giddiness, passed off, and with obstinate
+determination she kept her place, and the pretence of reading was
+carried on till towards evening.
+
+They had dined--a weary, comfortless meal--at which Leo had taken her
+place, and made an attempt to eat; but it was evident to the others that
+the food disgusted her, and almost everything was sent untasted away.
+
+The irritability seemed to have died out, but every attempt to draw her
+into conversation failed; and after a time the meal progressed in
+silence, till they drew round the fire at the end to resume their tasks,
+almost without a word.
+
+Salis was busy over a formal report of the state of the parish for the
+rector.  Mary was hard at work stitching, to help a poor widow who
+gained a precarious living by needlework, and Leo still had her book
+before her eyes.
+
+Mary's were aching, and she was about to ring for the lamp, for the
+short December afternoon was closing in, and Salis was in the act of
+wiping his pen, when Leo suddenly let fall her book, to sit up rigidly,
+staring wildly at them.
+
+"Leo, my child!"
+
+"Well, what is it?" she said; and her voice sounded harsh and strange.
+"Why did you say that?  You knew I should say yes."
+
+"Yes, yes, of course, my dear; but I did not speak."
+
+"You did.  You said I lied unto you, quite aloud, and"--with a return of
+her irritable way--"are we never going to have dinner?"
+
+Salis rose from the table where he had been writing, and laid his hand
+upon his sister's arm.
+
+"Leo, dear," he said anxiously; and he gazed in her wild eyes, which
+softened and looked lovingly in his.
+
+"No," she said, as she nestled to him and laid her cheek upon his arm;
+"a bit of a wrench.  My shoulder aches, but it will soon be well, dear."
+
+"Lie back in your chair," said Salis, as he laid his hand upon her
+throbbing brow.
+
+"Yes, that's nice," she said, smiling as she obeyed.  "So cool and
+refreshing--so cool."
+
+"Do you feel drowsy?  Would you like to have a nap?"
+
+"Yes, if you wish it," she said.  "I am sleepy.  Don't tell them at
+home, dear."
+
+Salis started, and his face grew convulsed, as he exchanged glances with
+Mary, who read his wish, wrote a few lines in pencil, and softly rang
+the bell.
+
+"Take that at once," she whispered to Dally Watlock, who entered,
+round-eyed and staring.
+
+"To Mr Tom Candlish, miss?"
+
+"No, no, girl; to Mr North."
+
+Mary drew her breath hard as the door closed behind the girl, for she
+read in her words a tale of deceit and also who had been the messenger,
+perhaps, in many a love missive sent on either side.
+
+She tried to rise, feeling that this was a time of urgent need; but her
+eyes became suffused with tears as she sank back helpless in her seat.
+
+"Take my arm, Leo, dear," said Salis.  "You would be better if you went
+up to your room and lay down."
+
+"Yes, dear; if you wish it," she said softly; and she started up, but
+caught at her brother, and clung to him as if she had been seized by a
+sudden vertigo, and then stared wildly round.
+
+Salis gave Mary a nod, and then, drawing Leo's arm through his, led her
+up to the door of her room, which she entered while he ran quickly down.
+
+"Quite delirious," he said quickly.  "I hope North will not be long.  I
+thought he would have been here this morning."
+
+He was busy as he spoke preparing for a task which he had performed
+twice daily since Mary's convalescence.  For, taking her in his arms as
+easily as if she had been a child, he bore her out of the room and up to
+Leo's door.
+
+As Mary, trembling with anxiety, pressed it open, Leo uttered an angry
+cry, dashed forward, and thrust the door back in her face.
+
+"No, no!" she said hoarsely; "not you.  Let me be.  Let me rest in
+peace."
+
+"But Leo, dear, you are ill."
+
+"I am not ill," she cried fiercely.  "Go away!"
+
+"Don't irritate her," whispered Salis gently.  "Leo, dear, Mary will be
+in her own room.  Lie down now."
+
+The phase of gentleness had passed, and Leo turned upon him almost
+savagely, in her furious contempt.
+
+"Lie down!  Lie down! as if I were a dog!  Oh! there must be an end to
+this.  There must be an end to this."
+
+She had partly opened the door so as to speak to her brother, but now
+she closed it loudly, and they heard her walking excitedly to and fro.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
+
+WHAT DALLY WAS DOING.
+
+"I feared it," said North, as he returned from the bedroom, where he had
+left Leo with the servants, who stood staring helplessly at her, and
+listening to her ravings about the mare, the plunge into the cold river,
+and the injured shoulder.  "Violent fever and delirium.  Poor girl! what
+could we expect?  Heated with her ride, the fall, the sudden plunge into
+the water, and then a long, slow ride in the drenched garments."
+
+"Do you think she is very ill?" said Mary anxiously.
+
+"Very; but not dangerously, I hope.  There, trust to me, and I will do
+everything I can.  You must have a good nurse at once.  Those women are
+worse than useless.  I'll send on my housekeeper."
+
+"But you are not going?" cried Salis, with the look of alarm so commonly
+directed at a doctor.
+
+"My dear boy--only to fetch medicine.  I'll not be long; and mind this:
+she must not leave her room now.  She must be kept there at any cost."
+
+"And I am so helpless, Hartley," whispered Mary piteously.  "It is so
+hard to bear."
+
+The curate bent down and kissed her, and then, taking his place by the
+bedroom door, he remained to carry out the instructions he had received.
+
+They were necessary, for he had not been there five minutes before the
+delirious girl rose from her couch, and there was an angry outcry on the
+part of the women.  She insisted upon going to the stable to see to her
+mare.  It was being neglected; and it was only by the exercise of force
+that she was kept in the room.
+
+Before half-an-hour had passed, the doctor was back, and quiet, firm
+Mrs Milt, who put off her crotchety ways in the face of this trouble,
+took her place by the bedside, and with good effect; for, partly soothed
+by the old woman's firm management, and partly by the strong opiate the
+doctor had administered, Leo sank into a restless sleep, in which she
+kept on muttering incoherently, the only portions of her speech at all
+connected being those dealing with her accident, which seemed to her to
+be repeated again and again.
+
+It was towards ten o'clock, as the doctor was returning by the short cut
+of the fields to the Rectory, after having been home for a short time,
+that he caught sight of a couple of figures a short distance over the
+stile leading down to the meadows, through which the little river ran.
+
+"Humph!" he muttered, as, in spite of the darkness, he recognised the
+figures, his own steps being hushed by the moist pasture, and the couple
+too intent upon their conversation to hear him pass.
+
+"Humph!" he said; "poor old Moredock is right, perhaps, about the girl.
+Confounded hard upon the people to have such a scoundrel loose among
+them."
+
+He half-hesitated, as if he felt that it was his duty to interfere, but
+there was too much earnest work at the Rectory for him to speak at a
+time like this.  And, besides, he could not have explained why, but the
+thought seemed to afford him something like satisfaction, for it was
+evident that if Tom Candlish had stooped to court pretty Dally Watlock,
+the Rectory servant, everything must have long been at an end between
+Leo and the squire's brother, the thrashing administered by Mr Salis
+having been effectual in its way.
+
+He was extremely anxious, too, about Leo; for unconsciously a new
+interest was awakening in him, and he felt that no case in which he had
+been engaged had ever caused him more anxiety than this.  So he hurried
+on to his patient's room, where the fever was growing more intense, and
+the flushed face was rolled from side to side upon the white pillow.
+
+"Just the same, sir," said Mrs Milt, as he asked a few eager questions.
+"She's been going on like that ever since you left.  Isn't she very
+bad?  Hark at her breath."
+
+"Very bad, Milt," said the doctor gravely; "and if matters go on like
+this I shall send over to King's Hampton for--"
+
+"No, no; don't you do that, sir," said the old housekeeper sharply.  "If
+you can't save her no one can."
+
+"Why, Milt!" exclaimed the doctor wonderingly.
+
+"Oh! you needn't look like that, sir.  I know you.  It's a deal of
+wherrit you give me with your awkward ways and irregular hours; but I
+will say this for you, there isn't a cleverer doctor going."
+
+"And yet you walked over to King's Hampton to the other doctor when you
+were ill."
+
+"Well, you had put me out so just then, and I felt as if I would sooner
+have died than come to you."
+
+"Ugh! you obstinate old thing," said North.  "There, I'm going down to
+talk to Mr Salis for a while; then I shall come and take your place for
+six hours while you go and lie down."
+
+"Oh!" ejaculated Mrs Milt; and she tightened her lips and remained
+silent for a few moments, while her master re-examined his patient.
+Then, drawing herself up: "I may be obstinate, sir, but I think I know
+my duty in a case of illness.  I'm here to watch by Miss Leo Salis's
+bedside, and here I'm going to stay."
+
+"Mrs Milt," said the doctor sternly, "the first duty of a nurse is to
+obey instructions, as you well know.  Now, no more talking, but sit down
+till I return."
+
+Mrs Milt looked tighter than ever, and her rigid stay-bone gave a
+crack, but she obeyed; while the doctor went down to where Salis and
+Mary were anxiously awaiting his report.
+
+"I meant to have had some tea ready for you," said Mary, after hearing
+what he had to say; "but Dally is missing.  She must have gone to her
+grandfather's cottage."
+
+The doctor uttered a loud "Humph!" and then remarked that he could wait.
+
+He had to wait some time, as Dally had gone to keep an appointment in
+the meadows, and had come upon a figure leaning against a great willow
+pollard on the river's brink.
+
+The figure started forward out of the darkness and caught her arm, with
+the result that Dally uttered a little affected squeal.
+
+"La, Mr Candlish! how you made me jump!"
+
+"Why, what brings you here?" he cried, passing his arm round the girl's
+waist.
+
+"Now, do adone, sir; you've no business to touch me like that.  What
+would Joe Chegg say?"
+
+"That I was a wise man, and that it was the prettiest little waist in
+Duke's Hampton."
+
+"Please keep your fine speeches for Miss Leo, and talk about her waist,
+sir, and let me go.  I only come for a walk."
+
+"Nonsense! tell me.  You've got a message?"
+
+"No, I haven't."
+
+"You--you have a letter?"
+
+"No," said Dally, shaking her head, and struggling just a little for
+appearance' sake.
+
+"Is she coming, then?"
+
+"No, she isn't; for she's too ill."
+
+"Eh?  Nonsense!"
+
+"But indeed she is, sir, and confined to her bed."
+
+"And she sent you, Dally.  Oh! how good of her."
+
+"No, nor she didn't send me neither, Mr Candlish; and do let go.  You
+shouldn't."
+
+"Has she caught a cold, Dally?"
+
+"Horrid bad one; and she's gone right off her head."
+
+"Gammon!"
+
+"She has, indeed, sir; and me and cook had to hold her down: she was so
+bad."
+
+"Hold her down?"
+
+"Yes; and she kept on talking in a hurry like, all about the hunting and
+falling in the water."
+
+"Did she say anything about me?" said Tom Candlish eagerly.
+
+"About you?  I should think not, indeed.  You men seem to think that
+ladies are always thinking about you.  Such stuff!"
+
+Then a long amount of whispering took place, Tom Candlish being one of
+those gentlemen who never fret after the absent, but possess a
+sailor-like power of taking the good the gods provide.
+
+At the end of five minutes there was the sound of a smart smack--not a
+kiss, but the contact of a palm upon a cheek.
+
+Then, from out the darkness came the expression, "You saucy jade!"
+following upon the rush of feet in flight.
+
+A minute later the swing gate leading into the Rectory grounds was heard
+to clap to, and Tom Candlish stopped in his pursuit and walked home
+across the fields.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
+
+LEO MAKES A CONFESSION.
+
+"Yes, doctor, I'm better, and you needn't come again."
+
+"Yes, you're better, Moredock.  Seen any more ghosts?"
+
+"Nay; I never see no ghosts.  I only see what I did see; but how's young
+miss up yonder?"
+
+Horace North's brow wrinkled, and his voice sounded stern.
+
+"Ill, Moredock--seriously ill.  Violent fever."
+
+"Fever--fever!" said the old man, backing away with unwonted excitement.
+
+"Yes, fever, you selfish old rascal!" cried the doctor irascibly.  "You
+oughtn't to be afraid of catching a fever at your time of life."
+
+"But I am, doctor--I am," said the old man, with a peculiar change in
+his voice.  "You see, I've just been ill, and it would be very hard to
+be ill again.  Is--is it ketching?"
+
+"No!" roared the doctor angrily; "not at all.  There, take care of
+yourself, and don't go to the church again in the dark."
+
+"I shall go to the church as often as I like and when I like," grumbled
+the old man.  "It's my church; but, I say, doctor, is it likely to be--
+eh?--you know--job for me?"
+
+North looked at him with an expression of horror and loathing that made
+the old man stare.
+
+"Why, you hideous old ghoul!" he cried; "do you want me to strangle you?
+Ugh!"
+
+He hurried out of the cottage, and Moredock rose slowly and followed him
+as far as the door.
+
+"What's he mean by that?  Gool?  What's a gool?  He's been drinking.  I
+see his hand shake; that's what's the matter with him; and I'm glad he
+hasn't got to mix no physic for me this morning.  Now, I wonder what he
+takes.  Them doctors goes into their sudgeries, and mixes theirselves
+drops as makes 'em on direckly.  Old Borton used to, and I buried him.
+He's making a bad job of it up at the Rectory, and he's drinking, but I
+put him out by speaking of it.  Ay, there he goes in at the Rect'ry
+gate.  Wonder whether they'll have a tomb for her, or a plain grave."
+
+Leo Salis had looked for some hours past as if one or the other would be
+necessary, and Moredock's words had seemed to North as if each bore a
+sting.
+
+So bad was the patient that when he reached the Rectory that day he
+decided to stay.
+
+"I'd say, send for other advice directly, Salis," he said drearily; "but
+if you had the heads of the profession here, they could do nothing but
+wait.  The fever will run its course.  We can do nothing but watch."
+
+"And pray," said Salis sternly.
+
+"And pray," said the doctor, repeating his words.  "Will you send over
+to the town, and telegraph?"
+
+"No," replied the curate.  "I have confidence in you, North."
+
+He said no more, but turned into his study to hide his emotion, while
+North crossed to where poor helpless Mary lay back in her chair, looking
+white and ten years older as her eyes sought his, dumbly asking for
+comfort.
+
+He took her hand, and kissed it, retaining it in his for a few minutes,
+as he stood talking to her, trying to instil hope, and little thinking
+of the agony he caused.
+
+"I'll go to her now," he said.  "There, try and be hopeful and help me
+to cheer up poor Hartley.  He wants comfort badly.  I'll come and tell
+you myself if there is any change."
+
+"The truth," said Mary faintly.
+
+"The truth?  Yes: to you," he said meaningly; and his words seemed to
+convey that she was so old in suffering that she could bear to be told
+anything, though perhaps it might be withheld from her brother.
+
+Mrs Milt, who had been an untiring watcher by the sick-bed, made her
+report--one that she had had to repeat again and again--of restless
+mutterings and delirium: otherwise no change.
+
+"No, Mrs Milt, we have not reached the climax yet," said North,
+sighing.
+
+"There, go and lie down, my good soul," he added after a short
+examination; "you must be tired out."
+
+"Tired, but not tired out, sir," said the old lady.  "Poor child! she
+has something on her mind, too, which frets her."
+
+"Indeed!" said North.  "Yes," continued Mrs Milt, in a whisper.  "She
+keeps muttering about telling _him_ something--confessing, she calls it
+sometimes."
+
+"Some old trouble come up into her brain," said the doctor; and he sat
+down by the bedside, to gaze at Leo's flushed face as she lay there with
+her eyes half closed, apparently sleeping heavily now.
+
+"Not yet, not yet," sighed North, as he took the hot, dry hand in his,
+and a shiver ran through him as he thought of the old sexton's words,
+and wondered whether he would be able to save her--so young and
+beautiful--from so sad a fate.
+
+"Poor child!" he said, half aloud; and then he sat on, hour after hour,
+wondering whether it would be possible to do more; whether he had done
+everything that medical skill could devise; and finally, as he came to
+the conclusion that he had thoroughly done his duty by his patient, his
+heart sank, and he owned to himself that in some instances he and the
+rest of the disciples of the great profession were singularly impotent,
+and merely attendants on Nature's will.
+
+Salis came up from time to time, to enter the room softly, and mutely
+interrogate his friend, and then go sadly back to his study--where Mary
+sat with him--to give her such news as he had to bear, and join with her
+in watching and praying for the wilful sister they both so dearly loved.
+
+It was getting towards nine o'clock on the gloomy, stormy winter's night
+when, after softly replenishing the fire, as North was returning to his
+place by the bed, he heard a faint sigh, and bending down over his
+patient, he found that her eyes were wide open--not in a fixed,
+delirious stare, full of excitement, but calm and subdued, while a sweet
+smile passed into her expression as his face neared hers.
+
+"Is that dreadful old woman there?" she whispered.
+
+"No," he said, laying his hand upon her forehead.  "I am alone."
+
+"Then I will speak," she said, in a low, passionate voice.  "You have
+not known--you have not believed it possible--but tell me, I have been
+very ill?"
+
+"Yes," he said gently, "you have been ill; but don't talk--try and
+rest."
+
+"I have been very ill, and I may die, and then you would never know,"
+she whispered quickly.  "It is no time, then, for a foolish, girlish
+reserve.  I may have been light and frivolous--coquettish too--but
+beneath it all I have loved you, and you alone.  I do love you with all
+my heart."
+
+Two soft, white arms were thrown about Horace North's neck, to draw him
+closer to his patient's gently heaving breast.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINETEEN.
+
+WAS IT DELIRIUM?
+
+"Leo, my child, think what you are saying," cried North.
+
+"I do think.  I have lain here and thought for hours.  I am not ashamed
+to confess it.  Why should I be?"
+
+She looked up at him inquiringly; while he for the moment felt giddy
+with emotion, but recovered himself directly.
+
+"She is delirious, poor child," he said to himself; and he tried to
+remove the enlacing arms from his neck.
+
+"No, no; don't leave me," she said softly.  "Don't be angry with me for
+saying this."
+
+"I am not angry, but you are weak.  You have been very ill, and you must
+not be excited now."
+
+"No, I am not excited.  I only feel happy--so happy.  You are not
+angry?"
+
+"Angry?  No," he said tenderly.  "There, let me lay you back upon your
+pillow.  Try and sleep."
+
+"No.  I do not wish to sleep.  Only tell me once again that you are not
+cross, and then sit down by me, and let me hold your hand."
+
+"Poor girl!" muttered North, as he felt the hands which had clasped his
+neck steal down his arm softly and lingeringly, as if they delighted in
+its strength and muscularity, resting for a few moments upon his wrist,
+and then grasping his hand tightly, while their owner uttered a low sigh
+of satisfaction.
+
+He seated himself by the bedside, and Leo said softly, as she lay gazing
+into his eyes:
+
+"I feel so happy and restful now."
+
+"And as if you can sleep?"
+
+"Sleep?  No.  Let me lie and look at you.  Don't speak.  I want to
+think.  Shall I die?"
+
+"Die?  No; you must get better now, and grow strong, for Mary's sake and
+for Hartley's."
+
+"And for yours," said Leo softly, as she smiled lovingly in his face.
+"I shall be your wife if I live."
+
+"You shall live, and grow to be happy with all who love you."
+
+"Yes," she said softly, "with all who love me;" and she closed her eyes.
+
+"It _is_ delirium, poor child," said North to himself.  "Good heavens!
+am I such a scoundrel as to think otherwise?"
+
+He sat back in his chair startled by the thoughts which had surged up to
+his brain.  He was horrified.  For, in spite of medical teaching, of his
+thorough command over himself, and of the fact that he had always been
+one whose love was his profession, he had found that he was strongly
+moved by the words and acts of the beautiful girl who had seemed to be
+laying bare the secrets of her heart.
+
+"Delirium--delirium! the workings of a distempered brain," he said to
+himself fiercely.  "Good heavens! am I going to be delirious too?"
+
+At that moment Leo opened her eyes again, with a calm, soft light
+seeming to burn therein, as she smiled in his face and drew his hand
+more to her pillow so that she could rest her cheek upon it, and once
+more her eyes half closed; but he knew that she was gazing at him still
+with the same soft, loving look which, in spite of his self-control,
+made his heart beat with a dull, heavy throb.
+
+"I have so longed to tell you all this," she whispered; "but I never
+dared till now.  It has made me bitter, and distant, and strange to you.
+I was angry with myself for loving you; and yet I could not help it.
+You made me love you.  I always did--I always shall."
+
+"It is delirium," panted North.  "I will not listen to her.  Pah! it is
+absurd.  Where is my manliness--where are all my honourable feelings?  I
+can master such folly, and I will."
+
+He set his teeth, and his face grew hard and cold; but all the same his
+pulses quickened, and as he sat prisoned there, with those soft,
+lustrous eyes gazing into his, he found that he was dreaming of another
+life in which his scientific researches would be forgotten in the sweet,
+dreamy, sensuous existence which would be his--enlaced in that loving
+embrace, while those eyes gazed in his as they were gazing now, and
+those curved lips returned his kisses or murmured tenderly as once more
+they whispered the secrets of her breast.
+
+"It has been so long.  I have been so ill: but I do not complain, for it
+has made me free to speak to you as I speak now.  No, no; don't take
+away your hand.  Let me rest like that."
+
+He was softly stealing away his hand, but she clung to it the more
+tightly, and her white teeth glistened between her ruby lips in a smile
+that was half mocking.
+
+He heaved a deep sigh, and resigned himself to his position, while the
+new thoughts which came surging on in a flood began to sweep everything
+before them.  She had been delirious, but there was no delirium here.
+She loved him.  This young and beautiful girl, to whom for years he had
+given no thought save as the sister of his old friend, loved him
+passionately, and he knew now the meaning of the ideas which had
+troubled him for days--he must--he did love her in return.
+
+But he was not beaten yet.  A flush rose to his forehead and he set his
+teeth hard, as he recalled his position--the confidence reposed in him
+as a medical man--a confidence which he seemed to be abusing; and
+drawing his breath deeply, he resolved that he would be man enough to
+resist this temptation now Leo was weak and excited.  She was yielding
+to her impulse as she would not have yielded had she been strong and
+well; hence he would be taking an unmanly advantage if he trespassed
+upon her weakness now.
+
+His course was open; his mind clear.  He would be tender and kind to her
+now.  After she was well he could listen to her confessions of love as a
+lover should; and as the thought expanded in his brain that he would
+call this loving girl wife, he wondered how it was that he could have
+been so dull and cold before--how it was that love should have been shut
+from his mental vision as by a veil?  And he sat gazing at his patient,
+almost dazzled by the bright light which seemed to be shed upon his
+future, till Hartley softly entered the room.
+
+"Any change?" he whispered.
+
+North glanced at the bed, and his heart beat fast.  Leo was again
+sleeping uneasily, and muttering in a low whisper.  To an ordinary
+observer there seemed to be none, but to Horace North there was an
+enormous change, and he asked himself whether he should speak now or
+wait.
+
+He could not speak then of the subject nearest to his heart.  He and
+Salis had always been the most intimate of friends--almost brothers--and
+they would be quite brothers in the future; but he could not tell him
+then.
+
+"She seems calmer," he whispered.  "She was awake and talking a little
+while ago."
+
+"What--lucidly--sensibly?"
+
+In spite of himself North could not help a start as he turned and met
+his friend's eye, while his words were slow and constrained as he said,
+in a hesitating manner:
+
+"Yes; I think so.  But she is very weak."  And the mental question
+insisted upon being heard--Was she speaking sensibly, and as one in the
+full possession of her senses?
+
+"North, old fellow, this is great news," cried the curate.  "Heaven be
+thanked!  I must go and tell Mary."
+
+He was hurrying from the room, but his friend caught his arm.
+
+"No, no; not yet," he said hurriedly.  "I would not raise her hopes too
+much."
+
+"Not when she is starving for the merest crumb of comfort?  I must tell
+her."
+
+"Then be content to say I think she is a trifle better," whispered
+North.
+
+"But the climax must have come and gone?"
+
+"I--I am not sure.  The case is peculiar.  Do as I say, and give her the
+crumb of comfort of which you spoke.  To-morrow, perhaps, I can speak
+more definitely."
+
+Hartley Salis left the room, and North once more bent over the bed.  His
+heart beat, his pulses throbbed, and the nerves in his temples seemed to
+tingle, as he laid his hand upon the burning brow, placed a finger upon
+the wrist, where the pulse beat so hard and pitifully, while, when he
+softly raised one of the blue-veined eyelids and gazed at the pupil, he
+drew back slowly, and shaded the sick girl's face from the light.
+
+It was growing late, the wind howled mournfully about the house, and
+from time to time there was a soft, patting noise at the window, as of
+some one tapping the panes with finger-tips.  So high was the wind
+without that the candle flames were at times wafted to and fro.
+
+Horace North had left the bedside, and was standing with his foot upon
+the fender, gazing down into the tiny glowing caverns in the fire, where
+the cinders fell together from time to time with a peculiar musical
+sound--the sound that strikes a watcher's ear so strangely in the long
+hours of the night.
+
+His thoughts were wild, and a tempest was raging in his breast as
+furious as that without.  Love had made its first attack upon a strong
+man, and the wound was rankling.  His brain was confused.  He was almost
+giddy with his new sensations, astonished at the position in which he
+found himself.
+
+He had been keen enough man of the world to understand Mrs Berens'
+tender, shrinking advances, and they had been to him by turns a cause of
+annoyance and of mirth.  But this was a novel and an intense delight.
+He could not have believed that he could be so moved.
+
+It was a hard fight, but the man of honour won.
+
+"I am her brother's friend; I am her medical attendant," he mused; "and
+neither by word nor look will I betray what passes in my heart till she
+is well.  Then I, too, will lay bare the secret I shall hide."
+
+"And if she speaks to you again as she spoke a while ago--what then?"
+
+It was as if a soft voice had whispered those words in his ear, and he
+shivered as he asked himself, "What shall I say?"
+
+"It is all madness," he cried fiercely--"utter madness.  They were the
+outpourings of her diseased brain.  Am I growing into an idiot?  Has
+much study of the occult wonders of our life half turned my brain?"
+
+He walked quickly to the bed, took up the candle, and let its light fall
+upon the flushed face for a few moments, a face looking so beautifully
+attractive with its wealth of rich hair tossed away over the white
+pillow.
+
+He set down the candle, and pressed his hand softly once more upon her
+burning brow, listening the while to the dull throbbings of his heart.
+
+"Yes, Horace North," he said at last, "you, the much-praised would-be
+_savant_, are as weak as the weakest of your sex, ready to be flattered
+into a passion by the first sweet words which fall from a woman's lips.
+You are strong in knowledge, you have mastered endless difficulties, but
+you have not mastered Horace North."
+
+"Fool--fool--fool!" he whispered to himself, after a pause; "with all
+your study to be so ready to rush to such a belief--ready to forget the
+trust reposed in you by a true man, by his sweet-minded sister, and, as
+it were, by you, my poor helpless girl.  Spoken in your wild delirium,
+my child--the emanations of a young girl's brain, of one whose waking
+thoughts must, Nature taught, be almost always of who is to be your mate
+through life.  You opened the secret casket of your heart, my child,
+when helpless and without control, and I have gazed therein with prying
+eyes.  But sleep in peace; they shall be secrets still.  Yes," he added,
+once more, as he drew steadily back--"delirium: she knows not what she
+says."
+
+A sigh from the sleeper made him pause, and then a low, musical laugh
+rang out, followed by a quick muttering.
+
+Then once more the low laugh was heard, and the muttering became
+louder--then plainly heard, as if the speaker were in a merry protesting
+mood.
+
+"You ask so much.  Again?  Well, I will confess.  Yes, I do love you--
+with all my poor weak heart!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY.
+
+A VENERABLE OLD MAN.
+
+"No, Moredock, I am not going to find more fault, and I am not going to
+complain to the rector.  If you had been a young man, with chances of
+getting work elsewhere, I should have had you discharged at once."
+
+"Ay, discharged at once," said the old man, trying to bite his livid lip
+with one very yellow old tooth, as he stood in the vestry doorway,
+looking down at the curate.
+
+"But as you are a venerable old man--"
+
+"Gently, Parson Salis; a bit old, but not venerable," grumbled the
+sexton.
+
+"I shall look over it, and not disturb you for the short time you have
+to live upon this earth.  But--"
+
+"Now, don't go on like that, sir, and don't get talking about little
+time on earth.  I may live a many years."
+
+"I hope you will, Moredock," said the curate, taking out the cigar-case
+he had started at North's recommendation, and carefully selecting a
+cigar before replacing it; "and I hope you will bitterly repent.  If you
+had come to me and asked me I would have given you a bottle of wine, but
+for a trusted servant of the church to take advantage of his position
+and steal--"
+
+"On'y borri'd it, sir."
+
+"I say steal, Moredock.  It was a wicked theft," said Salis sternly.
+"The wine kept here for sacramental purposes--"
+
+"But it was only in the cupboard."
+
+"It was a wicked theft, sir."
+
+"And it's poor sweet stuff; no more like the drop o' port Squire
+Candlish give me than treacle and water's like gin."
+
+"You're a scoundrelly old reprobate, Moredock."
+
+"No, I arn't, parson.  I'm a good old sarvant o' the church.  Here have
+I been ill, as doctor 'll tell you, and I was took bad in the church o'
+Saturday, and you'd ha' done the same, and took a drop o' the wine."
+
+"And you've been taken bad Saturday after Saturday for months past, eh,
+sir?" said the curate sternly.
+
+"Been out of order for a long bit, sir," grumbled Moredock, shuffling
+from foot to foot like a scolded schoolboy.
+
+"You old scoundrel!" said the curate, half rising from his seat in the
+dim vestry, where the surplices and gowns, hung against the old oak
+panels, seemed like a jury listening to the sexton's impeachment.  "You
+old scoundrel!" he said again, shaking the cigar at him, as if it were a
+little staff.  "It's quite a year since I began missing the wine, and I
+would not--I could not--suspect you.  Why, I should as soon have thought
+that you would rob the alms box."
+
+The old man started, as if his guilty conscience needed no accuser, for
+he had more than once helped himself to a silver coin from the box
+within the south door, telling himself that the alms were for the poor,
+and that he was one of that extremely large fringe of rags upon
+civilisation.
+
+"Well," continued the curate, "I shall to some extent condone this very
+serious offence, Moredock, for I cannot find it in my heart to prosecute
+an old man of over ninety; so now go, and I sincerely hope that you will
+repent."
+
+"Ay, I'll repent, parson; but it wouldn't ha' been much loss to ha' been
+turned out o' being saxton.  Nobody dies now, and no one gets married.
+How's Miss Leo?"
+
+"Getting quite strong again."
+
+"That's a blessing, sir," grumbled the old man, who in spirit abused the
+young girl for defrauding him of certain fees.  "Health's a blessing,
+sir."
+
+"Yes, Moredock, it is," said the curate, rising.
+
+"And I thankye kindly, sir, for looking over the wine, I do.  You
+needn't lock it up.  I won't touch it again."
+
+"I shall not lock it up, Moredock.  My forgiveness is full.  I shall
+trust you as if this had never occurred."
+
+"Thankye, parson.  That's han'some."
+
+"But let me have no more complaints.  You must do your duty, as I try to
+do mine."
+
+"Ay, parson, and I will," said the old sexton, following his superior to
+the door leading out to the churchyard, where Salis stopped and took a
+box of vestas from his pocket, as he stood just outside the old stone
+doorway, where a stone corbel with a demoniacal expression of
+countenance seemed to be leering by his shoulder as if in enjoyment of
+what had taken place.
+
+It was a sheltered corner for lighting a cigar, and the curate, without
+pausing to think, struck a match, and began to puff out the smoke.
+
+"Well, I've no right to speak, as between parson and sax'on, sir; but
+twix' old man and young man, I do say--what would you ha' said to me if
+you'd ketched me having a pipe in the churchyard?"
+
+"Why, you old rascal, I've often seen you smoking when you've been
+digging a grave."
+
+"Not often, parson; because one never hardly gets a grave to dig.  I
+have had a pipe sometimes when my chesty has felt a bit weak."
+
+"I deserve your reproof, Moredock," said the curate, putting out his
+cigar.  "I have taken to smoking so much that I find myself lighting
+cigars at all times and seasons, and I am greatly to blame here."
+
+"Nay, nay, I shan't say no more," said the old man, calmly taking the
+place of reprover instead of being reproved; "but try a pipe, parson.
+Worth a dozen cigars.  Stop a moment, sir, I wants another word with
+you."
+
+"Yes.  What about?"
+
+"My gran'child, Dally, parson.  I arn't saddersfied there."
+
+"Why, Moredock?"
+
+"Because I don't think you looks arter her morals as you should.  `Send
+her to me, Moredock,' you says, `and me and the young ladies will take
+every care on her.'"
+
+"I did, Moredock; and we have."
+
+"Nay, you haven't, sir; or else she wouldn't go on as she do."
+
+"What do you mean, man?"
+
+"Along o' young Tom Candlish, squire's brother, sir."
+
+"Is this true?"
+
+"True, sir?  Course it is.  Don't I say so?  I've ketched 'em together
+over and over again."
+
+"Tut--tut--tut! this must be stopped," cried Salis angrily.  "Did you
+speak to him?"
+
+"Ay, I spoke to him."
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"Called I an old fool."
+
+"But your grandchild.  Did you speak to her?"
+
+"Ay, course I did; but you might as well talk to yon cobble.  She just
+laughed, and give her pretty head a toss.  She is a pretty gal, parson."
+
+"Far too pretty, Moredock."
+
+"Oh!  I don't know 'bout that, sir.  Think young Tom wants to marry her?
+I'll put down a hundred pound the day she's wed."
+
+"You will, Moredock?  Why, I thought you were very poor."
+
+"So I am, parson, so I am; but I've saved up for the gal.  But you keep
+her in more; it'll make him more hungry arter her, and I'd like to see
+her mistress up at the Hall."
+
+"Moredock!" cried the curate, in horrible perplexity.
+
+"Well, I should," said the old man, grinning.  "Squire's drinking
+hisself to death as fast as he can, and he won't marry; so young Tom's
+sure to get the place.  But you keep her in."
+
+"I will, Moredock," said the curate sternly, and, in grave perplexity at
+the loose ideas of morality existing in Duke's Hampton, he went straight
+home, to find the doctor seated by Mary's couch.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
+
+"SOMETHING PARTICULAR TO SAY."
+
+Horace North had sternly determined on self-repression, and, from the
+moment when the crisis of Leo's fever had left her utterly prostrate, he
+had set himself the almost superhuman task of saving her from the grave.
+
+He had treated his patient with a gentleness and care that gradually won
+upon her, harsh and distant as she was by nature; so that at last, after
+the first fits of wearing fretfulness were over, she began to greet him
+with a welcoming smile, and seemed happier when he sat down and stayed
+chatting to her by her bed.
+
+On that night when the passionate avowals had been uttered she had sunk
+back into a violent fit of delirium; and since then, in all his long
+hours of watching, no word of love had passed her lips--no kindly look
+her eyes.
+
+North was disappointed and touched to the quick, for he watched for her
+loving looks, listened for her tender words.
+
+On the other hand, in his calmer moments he was pleased, for it made his
+task the lighter.  He could repress himself until such time as his
+patient were well and he could honourably approach her to ask her to be
+his wife.
+
+He was not surprised at her petulance or her irritability; and even in
+her worst moods he only smiled, as he thought of her past sufferings and
+present weakness.  This childlike temper was the natural outcome of such
+a fever, and would soon pass away.
+
+"It is better as it is," he said, and he toiled away, neglecting his
+studies, his great discovery, all for Leo's sake, that she might live
+and grow strong once more.
+
+"How beautiful!" he thought; and as she unconsciously suffered his
+attentions, receiving them as her right, as if she were a queen, Mary
+drank in all, and read the doctor's heart to the very deepest cell.
+
+But she made no sign.  It was her lot to suffer, and she would bear all
+in silent patience to the end, working to make others happy if she
+could, but sorrowing the more, as she wished well to North, and tried to
+believe that, after all, Leo might change, and worthily return his love.
+
+For, after seeing her home, Tom Candlish sent twice to know how Leo was.
+After that he seemed to take no further notice, though he really spent
+his time in asking Dally Watlock about her mistress, as he called it--
+questions which took a long time to ask and longer to gain replies.
+
+Leo never mentioned his name, but lay back reading, setting aside the
+book wearily when any one seemed disposed to converse, and taking up the
+book again as soon as whoever it was had done.
+
+Salis entered the room where North was seated conversing with Mary,
+whose pinched face bore a slight colour as she listened to his words,
+something he was saying being interrupted by the brother's entrance.
+
+"Ah, here you are!" cried North warmly.  "I have stayed to see you, for
+I have something particular to say."
+
+"That's right.  At least, it is not bad news, I hope."
+
+"I hope good," said the doctor warmly, and then he stopped awkwardly.
+
+It had all seemed so easy to say in his own room.  Here it was terrible.
+
+Mary's heart began to flutter, and a piteous look came into her eyes;
+but she closed them gently, and a tear slowly welled through from each.
+
+"Well, what is it?  Nothing fresh about Tom Candlish, I hope?"
+
+"About him?  No; nonsense!  I wanted to tell you that there is no
+further need for me to attend your sister," Slid the doctor clumsily.
+"She is nearly well now, and--"
+
+"My dear Horace, you have saved her life!"
+
+"No, no; nonsense!  Only did as any other medical man would have done."
+
+"I say she owes you her life, and it will be Leo's duty to remember
+that, and to strive henceforth to render back to you--"
+
+"If she only will!" cried North excitedly, as he sprang up and clasped
+his old friend's hand.
+
+For the ice was broken.  He could speak now, and as Mary looked up
+through a mist of blinding tears he seemed to her like the hero she had
+always painted--as the man whom some day she might love.  But for her
+love was dead.
+
+"Why, Horace, old man, what do you mean?" cried Salis, as Mary fought
+down a wail of agony which strove to escape her lips.
+
+"What do I mean, Salis?" cried the doctor passionately; "why, that I
+love Leo dearly, and I ask you to let me approach her, and beg her to be
+my wife."
+
+The curate sank into the nearest chair, and sat gazing up at his friend.
+
+"Why, you don't seem--I had hoped--Hartley, old fellow, don't look at me
+like that."
+
+"I am very sorry."
+
+"No, no; don't speak in that way--so cold and bitter."
+
+"Have you spoken to Leo--of your love?"
+
+"Not a word.  On my honour."
+
+A sigh escaped Mary.
+
+"You need not say your honour, Horace, old fellow," said the curate
+sadly.  "I did once hope this, but that time has gone by, and I can only
+say again I am very sorry."
+
+"But why?--why?"
+
+"Because," said the curate slowly, "Leo is not the woman to make you a
+happy husband."
+
+"Nonsense, my dear boy.  I--I believe she loves me."
+
+The curate shook his head.
+
+"Ah! well," cried the young doctor joyously; "we shall see.  Tell me
+this: would you accept me as your brother?"
+
+"I already look upon you as a brother."
+
+"Then you will let me speak to Leo?"
+
+The curate paused a few moments, and then in the gravest of tones said:
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Now?  At once?"
+
+"If you wish it," said Salis, after another pause.
+
+"Then I will," said North.  "I have waited months, and borne agonies all
+through her illness.  Now I will be at rest."
+
+"But--"
+
+Salis was too late, for hot, excited, and strung up hard to the highest
+pitch of excitement, North strode from the room, while Salis stooped
+over Mary and kissed her.
+
+"I am very sorry," he repeated: and a couple of loving arms closed round
+his neck, as Mary sobbed gently upon his breast.
+
+Then brother and sister sat talking, for the drawing-room door had
+closed, and they could hear the low, dull murmurings of the doctor's
+voice.
+
+He had entered the drawing-room, where, looking extremely beautiful in
+her _negligee_ habit, and refined by illness, Leo lay upon her couch by
+the fire, for the spring was cold, and as he entered she lowered her
+book and smiled.
+
+It was a good augury, and with beating heart Horace North advanced and
+took her hand--to ask this woman to be his wife.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
+
+DR NORTH PROPOSES.
+
+As Horace North took the hand of Leo Salis in his, it was to find it
+soft and cool and moist--very different from the burning palm he had so
+often held a few months since.  It was without a tremble, but it sent a
+thrill through him; and with eyes flashing and revelling in his new joy,
+he was about to speak, when she half threw herself back in her chair
+with a movement of resignation which came upon him like a _douche_.
+
+He knew it so well.  He read it and understood it as plainly as if she
+had spoken.  It was the patient waiting for him to feel her pulse.
+
+"I thought you had given me up," she said lightly.
+
+"Given you up--you whom I love!"
+
+Those were the words he wanted to say, but they would not come now after
+the damping he had received, and involuntarily his fingers glided slowly
+to her wrist, and he held them pressed against the calmly-beating pulse,
+gazing down at her half-averted eyes the while.
+
+There was no coquetry, no playful manner; she was as calm and resigned
+as any patient he had ever visited, and yet, time back, she had clung to
+him, gazed passionately into his eyes, and whispered of her love.
+
+Was it delirium?
+
+He could not bring himself to say; but even if it were, she must at
+heart have loved him, and in her abnormal state have confessed what she
+would sooner have died than said when well.
+
+The moments glided by, and he still held her wrist in the most
+professional manner, till, apparently surprised, she raised her
+eyebrows, opened her languid eyes, and looked up at him.
+
+"Well, doctor," she said, half laughing, "loth to part with your
+patient?  I am quite well."
+
+He was dumb.  A whirlwind of emotion was sweeping through him, as he
+vainly sought to shape his course.  Could he tell her of her passionate
+avowal, or would it be too cowardly to take advantage of her past
+weakness?
+
+He could not recall that--not now.  Some day, perhaps, he might; but now
+he felt that he must approach her unarmed.  She was delirious, and her
+brain must be a blank to all that had passed, and he would speak
+plainly--conventionally.
+
+"Why, doctor," she said at last, half-wonderingly, "of what are you
+thinking?"
+
+"Thinking?" he said hoarsely.
+
+"Yes; you look so serious.  Surely I am not going to have a relapse?"
+
+"Oh, no!" he cried.
+
+"Then why do you look at me like this?"
+
+She asked him the question so naively, as she half lay back in her
+place, that a cold chill came upon him again, and, letting her hand
+fall, he took a turn to the window and back, half ready to say nothing
+then; but nerving himself once more, he took a chair, drew it to the
+lounge, and, seating himself again, took her hand.
+
+"Another inspection, doctor?" she said, half laughingly; and then, as
+she met his eyes, she seemed to comprehend his meaning, and tried to
+withdraw her hand, but he held it tightly.
+
+"Do you know what I want to say to you?" he said gravely.
+
+"What you wish to say?"
+
+"Yes.  There!  I cannot speak to you in set terms, but do you think I
+could know you as I have known, have watched by you, and tended you
+through all this terrible illness, with any other result?  Leo, I love
+you!  Will you be my wife?"
+
+"Dr North!"
+
+Yes; her mind must be a blank.  There was so much genuine surprise in
+her tone, such a look of astonishment in her eyes, that he knew it now
+without doubt, and his emotion choked him for the moment, so great was
+the disappointment and despair her tone evoked.
+
+"You wonder at it, but why should you?  Listen to me, Leo--"
+
+"No, no; stop--stop!  You are too hasty.  Let me think."
+
+She put her hands to her temples, and looked at him half-wonderingly,
+half amusedly, but to him it seemed as if she were trying to recall
+something, and he once more caught her hand.
+
+"You will listen to me.  You will give me your promise, Leo--dear Leo!
+You seem to belong to me, for I have, as it were, brought you back from
+the dead.  Tell me you will be my wife."
+
+She gave him a quick, keen glance that was as if full of horror and
+revolt, but he could not interpret it, and drew her hand towards his
+breast.  Then, with a quick movement, and a pitying look at the man for
+whom she felt something approaching gratitude:
+
+"No, no," she exclaimed; "it is impossible."
+
+"I have spoken hastily.  I have taken you by surprise," he cried.  "Only
+tell me this: you do not hate me, Leo?"
+
+"Hate you?  Oh, no, Dr North," she cried.  "Have we not always been
+great friends?  Have you not saved my life?"
+
+"Let me be more than friend," he exclaimed; and a curious look came into
+her eyes, as he went on pouring forth in almost incoherent terms his
+love for her, the intense longing she had inspired.  He could not
+interpret it--that it was full of mockery and suppressed mirth, mingled
+with contempt.
+
+"You do not speak," he said, at last.  "Give me some hope."
+
+"What shall I say?" she cried.  "It is too much to ask of me.  You want
+me to promise."
+
+"Yes," he said; "and I will wait patiently for the fulfilment of that
+promise."
+
+"But I have thought so little of such a thing," she said calmly.  "You
+have taken me so by surprise.  I cannot--oh, I cannot promise."
+
+"But I may hope?" he said.
+
+"I cannot--I will not--promise," she said firmly.  "If I marry it must
+be some one who has distinguished himself, who has made himself a name
+among the great people of the world.  I hate this humdrum life, and this
+dull existence in the country.  The man I loved should be one of whom
+his fellow-men talked because he had become great and done something of
+which I could be proud.  No, no, Dr North; you must not ask me to
+promise this."
+
+He sat gazing into her eyes, for her words had struck a chord in his
+breast.  They seemed to rouse up in him the thoughts and theories which
+had been set aside during the months of her illness while she had been
+his only care; and with an eager burst of fervid passion in his tones,
+he exclaimed:
+
+"If I distinguished myself in some way--if I set men talking about my
+discoveries, and made my name famous, would you listen to me then?"
+
+The same mocking light was in her eye, the same half-contemptuous smile
+played for a moment about the corners of her lips, as she said, in a low
+voice:
+
+"Wait and see."
+
+"Wait?  I will wait," he cried eagerly; "and you shall share my triumph.
+Leo, you do not know, you cannot tell, what thoughts I have--what
+investigations I am making into a science which is full of wonders
+waiting to be discovered.  You have roused once more in me the great
+desire to win fame: to make researches that shall benefit humanity for
+all time to come.  I can, I will, win these secrets from Nature, and we
+will together go hand-in-hand, learning more and more.  I shall
+succeed!" he cried excitedly.  "Ah! you smile.  You do give me hope."
+
+She did not speak, but veiled her eyes, to hide the mocking light within
+them.
+
+"My darling--my love!" he exclaimed.
+
+She drew back from his embrace.
+
+"No, no," she said.  "We are only friends."
+
+"Yes, friends," he cried--"friends now."
+
+"Say no more," she continued.  "I am still weak, and this troubles me.
+Pray go now."
+
+"Yes, I am going," he said eagerly, "to fight a hard fight.  I used to
+think of it as for fame alone.  Now it is for love--your love--the love
+of the woman who first taught me that I had a heart."
+
+Raising the hand she surrendered, he kissed it tenderly, and was about
+to speak again, but he could not trust himself; and giving her a look
+full of love, trust, and devotion, he hurried back to the study, where
+Salis sat with Mary, waiting his return.
+
+"Well?" said Salis, as Mary sat with pinched lips, and eyes wild with
+emotion.
+
+"Congratulate me, my dear boy!" cried North excitedly.
+
+"She has promised to be your wife?"
+
+"No, no; I am to wait and work.  She is quite right.  It was assumption
+on my part."
+
+"Then she has refused you?"
+
+"Oh, no!  She is quite right.  She bids me do something to make me
+worthy of her love, and--ah!  Hartley, old fellow, I did not know what
+life was before.  There!  I am the happiest fool on earth."
+
+He turned to Mary, who was gazing at him with a look so full of pain
+that it would have betrayed her secret at another time.  But just then
+the love madness was strong, and its effect sufficient to blind North,
+who, in his joy, raised Mary's hand and kissed it, as he had kissed her
+sister's.
+
+Mary shrank at the contact of his lips with her soft, white hand; and a
+look of despair that she could not control shot from her lustrous eyes.
+
+North did not see it, but Hartley Salis made a mental note thereof as
+the doctor exclaimed, laughing:
+
+"There, good folks, let me go.  Don't laugh at me and be too hard when I
+am gone."
+
+"Hard!" said the curate sadly.
+
+"Well, I know I'm behaving like a lunatic.  I'm going away to study
+hard, and work myself back into a state of sanity--if I can."
+
+He nodded and left the house; and, as the door closed, Mary closed her
+eyes as the sank back helplessly in her place.
+
+"Asleep, dear?" said Hartley tenderly, a few minutes later, and he had
+risen from where he sat, with a dejected look upon his face.
+
+"No, Hartley; only thinking," she said, smiling sweetly in his face.
+
+"Thinking?"
+
+"Of Leo."
+
+"And so was I," he said sadly.
+
+But Leo Salis was not thinking of brother or sister.  She was writing
+rapidly, with a blotting-book held half open, and the book she had been
+reading held in the same hand, so that she could close the blotter
+instantly and seem to be reading if any one came.
+
+Leo's lips formed the words she wrote:--
+
+"It is ridiculous of you to have such jealous thoughts.  He has tended
+me patiently as any other doctor would.  I will tell you more to-morrow
+night, but to-day I tell you this: I think him very clever as a doctor;
+as an ordinary being I think him an idiot.  At the old time as nearly as
+I can.  Do be punctual this time, pray."
+
+It was about five o'clock the next morning that, after sitting up
+reading hard, and trying to recover lost time, till half-past three,
+North was plunged in a deep sleep, in which he dreamed that Leo was
+smiling in his eyes, and repeating the words she had uttered in her
+delirium, when there was a heavy dragging at the night-bell.
+
+"What is it?" cried the doctor from his window.
+
+"My young master, sir," cried the voice of the butler from the Hall.
+
+"Taken ill?"
+
+"Ill, sir?  Oh, Heaven help us! it's worse than that!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
+
+TOM CANDLISH PLAYS BADLY.
+
+Squire Luke Candlish looked flushed and angry, as he stood facing his
+brother in the billiard-room, over the dining-room, at the Hall.  Dinner
+had been ended an hour, and in company with his brother he had partaken
+of enough wine for three ordinary men, after which they had gone
+upstairs to smoke and play two or three games.
+
+Tom Candlish played horribly that night.  The strokes he made were vile;
+and so transparent were some of his blunders that any one but Squire
+Luke would have seen and asked what it meant.
+
+Squire Luke only chuckled and smoked, and spilled the cigar-ash over the
+green cloth and played; but played more vilely than his brother, with
+the result that, in spite of all his efforts, Tom won game after game.
+
+It was very awkward, for Tom had a request to make, and unless he could
+get his brother in a good temper, the request would certainly be in
+vain.
+
+He made misses and his brother scored one each time.  Then went straight
+into the pocket without touching a ball; and his opponent scored three;
+but directly afterwards, when his turn came round, the balls seemed as
+if they would make cannons and winning and losing hazards, so that his
+score kept rising, and Squire Luke raved.
+
+Tom won every game, and his brother grew more silent, till quite in
+despair at the failure of his plan to put the squire in a good temper,
+Tom blurted out his business.  He wanted a hundred pounds.
+
+"I should think you do want a hundred pounds!" said the squire coolly;
+"say two."
+
+"Two!" cried Tom merrily.
+
+"Twopence!" cried his brother, driving his ball off the table with a
+tremendous clatter.  "What for?"
+
+"Meet a couple of bills," said Tom, picking up the ball.  "No!  Your
+play again."
+
+"No business to accept them."
+
+"Couldn't help it, old fellow.  Come, let's have a hundred."
+
+"Not a stiver."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because you've had your allowance for the year, and fifty over."
+
+"Nonsense, old man; I'm hard pushed, and if I don't meet the bills,
+they'll be dishonoured."
+
+"Well, what of that?" said Squire Luke coolly, as he made a stroke.
+
+"What of it! eh?  Why, the glorious name of Candlish will be dragged in
+the mire."
+
+"Bah!" ejaculated the squire, playing again.
+
+"Why, Luke, that stroke was not emblematic, was it, of your turning into
+a screw?"
+
+"None of your hints.  I put on no screw, and I am no screw.  You have
+your five hundred a year to spend, and I keep you besides."
+
+"Oh, yes: and keep me well; but a man can't always keep just inside a
+certain line."
+
+"You always keep outside a certain line," retorted the squire.  "You
+have your five hundred regularly."
+
+"And you have your five thousand regularly," said Tom, who was beginning
+to flush up.
+
+"Well, what of that?"
+
+"Why, it isn't fair that you should have all this big place and a large
+income, and I nearly nothing."
+
+"That's right," said the squire; "abuse your father."
+
+"I don't abuse my father!" retorted Tom hotly; "but I say it was an
+infernal shame!"
+
+"He knew what a blackguard you are, Tommy.  Ah! that's a good stroke:
+six!"
+
+"Blackguard, eh?  Come, I like that.  Because I am open and above-board,
+and you are about the most underhanded ruffian that ever lived, I'm a
+blackguard, and you are only Squire Luke.  Why, you sneaking--"
+
+"Don't call names, Tom," said the squire, laughing huskily, with his
+heavy face bloated and red from the wine he had taken.  "Little boy,
+younger brother, if you are rude I may use the stick in the shape of a
+billiard cue."
+
+"I only wish you would," said Tom, grinding his teeth as he played,
+striking the balls viciously, and scoring now every time.
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it?" cried the squire; "going to win, are you?  We
+shall see."
+
+"Win?  Curse the game!  I could give you fifty out of a hundred, and
+beat you easily.  Look here, are you going to let me have that money?"
+
+"No, I am not; mind your play."
+
+"Then I'll have it somehow."
+
+"Burglary?"
+
+"No; I'll make it so unpleasant for a certain person about some things I
+know that he shall be glad to lay down the hundred instead of lending
+it, as one brother should to another."
+
+The squire's face grew dark, and the cue quivered in his grasp, as he
+gazed full at Tom Candlish, the brothers looking singularly alike in
+their anger.  But the elder turned it off with a curious, unpleasant
+laugh, and leant over the table to make a stroke.
+
+"Don't be a fool, Tom," he said, playing.  "You always did have too much
+tongue."
+
+"Too much or too little, I mean to use it more, instead of submitting to
+the tyranny of such a mean-spirited hound as you.  What the old man
+could have been thinking of to leave the estate to such a miserly cur--"
+
+"Mean-spirited hound! miserly cur, eh!" paid the squire, between his
+teeth.
+
+"Yes; and I repeat it," cried Tom Candlish, who was furious with
+disappointment.  He found that humility was useless, and that now they
+had begun to quarrel, his only chance of getting money was by bullying
+and threats; so without heeding the gathering anger in his brother's
+eyes as he went on playing rapidly in turn and out of turn, he kept up
+his attack.  "What the governor could have been thinking of, I say--"
+
+"Leave the governor alone, Tom," growled the squire.  "He knew that if
+he left the money to me with the title, the estate would be kept out of
+the lawyers' hands, and the money would not be found in pretty women's
+laps."
+
+"But down your throat, you sot!"  The squire looked up at him again, and
+he was going to make some furious retort, when the old butler's steps
+were heard ascending the flight of stairs, and he entered the room.
+
+"Can I bring anything else, Sir Luke, before I go to bed?"
+
+"No, Smith," said the squire; "what time is it?"
+
+"Half-past ten, sir."
+
+"All locked up?  Servants gone to bed?"
+
+"Yes, Sir Luke."
+
+"That'll do, then, without Mr Tom wants some more hot water."
+
+"No; I'm in hot water enough," growled Tom, lighting a cigar, and the
+butler withdrew.
+
+For some few minutes there was no sound but the click of the billiard
+balls, as the squire, forgetful entirely of the game, kept on knocking
+the red here, the white there, while Tom Candlish paced up and down, cue
+in hand, emitting regular puffs of smoke, as if he were some angry
+machine moved by an internal fire.
+
+Doors were heard to shut here and there, and then all was silent in the
+old place save the regular pacing about of Tom, the squire's hasty
+tread, and the clicking of the billiard balls.
+
+"Now, then!" cried Tom, at last; "are you going to let me have that
+money?"
+
+"No," said the squire, coolly enough.  "I wouldn't let you have it now
+for your bullying.  I'm a hound and a cur, am I, my lad?"
+
+"Yes, you are a despicable hound and a miserable cur, and if the old man
+had known--"
+
+"Let the old man rest," said the squire, with a lurid look.
+
+"I say, if the old man had known how you were going to spend his money,
+sotting from morning to night--"
+
+"He'd have left it to you to spend on the loose, eh?"
+
+"Loose?  Why, you are ten times as loose as I am; but you are so proud
+of your good name that you sneak about in the dark to do your
+dissipation.  I am manly and straightforward in mine."
+
+"Yes, you're a beauty," said the squire mockingly.  "Which of those
+girls are you going to marry--Leo Salis or Dally Watlock?"
+
+"You mind your own affairs, and leave me to manage mine!" said Tom
+Candlish fiercely.
+
+"But I should like to know," said the squire, "because then I could
+arrange about the paper and furniture for the rooms."
+
+"Do you want to quarrel, Luke?"
+
+"Quarrel?" chuckled the squire; "not I.  Trying to be brotherly and to
+make things pleasant.  If it is to be Leo, of course we must have greys
+and sage greens and terra cottas.  If it is to be Dally Watlock, we must
+go in for red and yellow and purple.  How delightful to have the
+sexton's granddaughter for a sister!  I say, Tom, how happy we shall
+be!"
+
+Tom Candlish turned upon his brother furiously, as if about to strike;
+and the squire, though apparently laughing over his banter, and about to
+play, kept upon his guard.
+
+But no blow was struck.  Tom uttered a low sound, like the muttering
+growl of an angry dog, and smoked quickly, giving the butt of his cue a
+thump down upon the floor from time to time as he walked.
+
+"I shan't mind your marrying, Tom; and there's plenty of room for you to
+bring a wife to.  I shan't marry, so your boy will get the title--and
+the coin."
+
+"Coin?" cried Tom savagely; "there'll be none left.  Do you think I
+don't know how you are spending it?"
+
+"Never mind how I spend it, my lad.  I only spend what is my own; and if
+I had spent all, I shouldn't come begging to you."
+
+"Lucky for you," cried Tom Candlish tauntingly.  "Look here, Luke, how
+many years does it take a man to drink himself to death?"
+
+"Don't know," said the squire, wincing.
+
+"Well, you're hard at work, and I shall watch the experiment with some
+curiosity.  I've a good chance."
+
+"Healthier man than you, Tom; and it'll take me longer to kill myself
+than it will take you.  I shall be a hale man long after you've broken
+your neck hunting."
+
+"Look here!" cried Tom savagely, "once more: do you want to quarrel?"
+
+"Not I," said the squire; "and I don't want to fight.  Cain might kill
+Abel over again with an unlucky blow."
+
+"'Pon my soul, Luke, if I could feel sure that Cain would be hung for
+it, I shouldn't mind playing Abel."
+
+"Look at that!" cried the squire, as, after a random shot, the red ball
+went into one pocket, the white into another.  "There's a shot!"
+
+"Yes--a fluke," sneered Tom.  "Your life has been a series of flukes.
+It was one that you were born first, and another that you ever lived;
+while in earnest, as in play, it's always flake, fluke, fluke!"
+
+"Anchor flukes take fast hold of the ground, Tom," said the squire, with
+a sneering laugh.
+
+"Yes, and of the money, too," cried Tom.  "Come, I'll give you another
+chance.  Will you let me have that cash?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Not to save me from a writ?"
+
+"Who holds the bills?"
+
+"That scoundrel Thompson.  North's cousin."
+
+"Then he'll worry you well for it," said the squire.  "Let him.  It'll
+be a lesson for you, and bring you to your senses.  You'll be more
+careful."
+
+"Nonsense!  Let me have the money."
+
+"I might have let you have it, and precious unwillingly, too," said the
+squire.  "I might, I say, have let you have the money to save you for
+the last time, but your bullying tone, and the way in which you have
+spoken to me to-night, have quite settled it.  You may have writs and he
+arrested, and turn bankrupt if you like: it doesn't make any difference
+to me.  Yes, it would; for perhaps I should get rid of you for a time."
+
+"You cursed, mean, unbrotherly hound!" cried Tom furiously; and,
+throwing down the cue upon the table just as his brother was about to
+play, he swung out of the room, descended the stairs, and went up to his
+bedroom.
+
+"Hang him!" muttered the squire, going to a side table and pouring
+himself out half a tumbler of strong brandy, which he diluted a little,
+and then drank off half at a draught.
+
+"I wish to goodness he'd go altogether.  I won't pay his debts any more.
+That's not a bad stroke.  How a drop of brandy does steady a man's
+hand!  Let him swear and growl.  Five hundred's enough for him for a
+year, and the old man was quite right."
+
+He went on playing for another half-hour, practising strokes with very
+little success, till, glancing at his watch, he found it was close upon
+midnight, and placing his cue in the rack, he poured himself out some
+more brandy, drank it, turned down the lamp, and was moving towards the
+baize swing-door, when it opened, and Tom Candlish stood in the opening.
+
+"Hallo!" said the squire; "thought you'd gone to bed."
+
+"What's the good of my going to bed with that money trouble to think
+about."
+
+"Have some brandy?  Make you forget it.  I've left some on the table."
+
+"No fooling, Luke.  I was out of temper.  I've been worried, and I said
+things I didn't mean."
+
+"Always do.  Here, let me come by.  I want to go to bed."
+
+"All right, you shall directly, old fellow; but you'll let me have that
+money?"
+
+"Not a sou."
+
+"I want it horribly; and it will save me no end of worry.  You'll let me
+have it?"
+
+"Not a sou, I tell you."
+
+"Come, Luke, old chap, don't be hard upon me.  I've been waiting
+patiently till I got cool, and you had finished playing, before I came
+and spoke to you again.  Now, then, it's only a hundred."
+
+"And it'll be a hundred next week, and a hundred next month.  I won't
+lend you a penny."
+
+"Then, give it me.  I've a right to some of the old man's coin."
+
+"Not a sou, I tell you, and get out of my way.  I want to go to bed."
+
+"You'll help me, Luke?"
+
+"No!  Stand aside!"
+
+"Come, don't be hard.  I'm your brother."
+
+"Worse luck!" said the squire, whose face was flushed by the brandy he
+had taken.
+
+"Never mind that.  Let me have the hundred."
+
+"I tell you again, not a sou.  Curse you!  Will you let me come by?"
+cried the squire savagely; for the spirit had taken an awkward turn, and
+his face grew purple.
+
+"Once more; will you let me have the money?"
+
+"No!" roared the squire.  "Get out of the way--dog!"
+
+"Dog, yourself!  Curse you for a mean hound!" cried Tom Candlish, with a
+savage look.  "You don't go by here till you've given me a cheque."
+
+The squire's temper was fully roused now.  He had restrained it before;
+though, several times when he had uttered a low laugh and kept on
+handling his cue, his anger had been seething, and ready to brim over.
+
+Now, at his brother's threat, that he should not pass until he had
+signed a cheque, he seized Tom by the shoulder as he blocked the way,
+and flung him aside.
+
+Luke Candlish cleared the passage for his descent; but roused the evil
+in his brother, so that Tom closed with him in a fierce grip.
+
+The struggle was almost momentary.  There was a wrestling here and
+there, and then Luke Candlish put forth his whole strength as he
+practised a common Cornish trick, and Tom was thrown heavily upon the
+landing.
+
+"There!" cried the squire; "lie there, you idiot!  You'll get no cheque
+from me."
+
+The squire had to pass over his brother's body to reach the stairs, and
+he was in the act of rapidly crossing him, when, with a desperate
+effort, Tom made a savage snatch at his leg.
+
+The result was what might have been expected: the sudden check caused
+the squire to lose his balance, and he literally pitched head foremost
+down the stairs, to fall with a heavy crash at the bottom.
+
+Tom Candlish rose to his hands and knees, and gazed at where his brother
+lay, just beneath the lamp in the lobby, head downwards, and in a
+curiously-awkward position for a living man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
+
+A TERRIBLE SILENCE.
+
+"Serve him right," muttered Tom.  Then rising and pushing the door,
+which had swung to, he entered the dark billiard-room, where he felt his
+way to the spirit stand, and took a hearty draught.  "Curse him! he's as
+strong as a horse.  I wish he had broken his neck."
+
+The brandy gave him nerve, and he returned through the baize door into
+the light.
+
+"Must lend him a hand, I suppose," he muttered, as he descended the
+stairs to where the squire lay in a heap, his head upon the mat, one leg
+doubled beneath him, and the other through the balustrade, which held it
+fast.
+
+Tom Candlish stood peering down at him for a few moments, and then, as
+his brother did not move, he stooped towards him.
+
+"Here," he said roughly, as he took hold of his wrist; "don't lie like
+that; you'll have a blood-vessel burst."
+
+There was no reply; and, as the wrist was loosed, the arm fell in an
+absolutely nerveless way.
+
+"Here, Luke!" he cried; "get up.  Don't fool.  Get up, man!"
+
+Still no reply, and, beginning to be startled, Tom Candlish went down
+upon one knee and tried to move his brother's head into a more
+comfortable position.
+
+As he did so, the light fell athwart so ghastly and strange a
+countenance, from whose lips the blood was slowly trickling, that he let
+the head glide from his hands, for it to sink suddenly with a dull thud
+upon the stairs.
+
+"Good God!" ejaculated the young man, in a low, excited voice.  "Here,
+Luke!  Luke, old man: hold up!"
+
+There was no movement--not even a sigh; and Tom Candlish ran to alarm
+the house; but, as he reached the swing-door at the end of the passage,
+and stood gazing into the hall, he stopped and ran back to lay his hand
+upon his brother's heart; then caught his wrist, and afterwards thrust a
+hand right into his breast, but only to withdraw it quite aghast.
+
+"Here! a doctor!" he gasped, his voice being like a hoarse whisper.
+"Smith!  Somebody!  Here!"
+
+He rose and hurried to the door leading into the entrance hall once
+more, but stopped again as he reached it, and stood gazing back at the
+distorted figure at the foot of the stairs.
+
+Then he turned and looked up the dimly-lit staircase, but all was
+perfectly still.  No one appeared to have heard the altercation or the
+fall.  All seemed to be sleeping; and, panting heavily, as wild thoughts
+full of wonder and dread flooded his brain, Tom Candlish closed the door
+softly, ran back along the passage, ascended the stairs, and gained the
+billiard-room, where he groped his way once more to the spirit stand,
+removed the stopper, and drank heavily from the brandy decanter.
+
+"Hah!" he ejaculated, as he took a long breath, and turned to see that
+the oval pane in the baize door seemed to have assumed the aspect of a
+huge, dull eye glaring at him.
+
+"Am I going mad?" he muttered, as he staggered to the door.  "I must
+call help; perhaps--perhaps--he is seriously hurt."
+
+He stole softly down the stairs, and paused by the prostrate figure,
+still lying perfectly motionless, and in its hideously-distorted
+position.
+
+"I must call help--call help!" whispered the young man, whose face was
+now ghastly; but though there were bells that might have been rung and
+people were within call, he only crept along the passage, without
+attempting to touch the fallen man, pushed the spring-door gently, so
+that it should make no noise, closed it again, stood listening, and
+then, in the midst of the dead silence, stole on tip-toe up the grand
+staircase to his bedroom, where he once more stopped to listen, and then
+crept softly in and closed the door.
+
+The silence in the old Hall was as that of death for a few moments,
+before it was broken by a faint click, as of the bolt of a lock just
+shot.
+
+Once more silence, and then on the dim staircase there was a musical
+purring noise, followed by the pleasant chimes of a clock, which rang
+out the half-hour after midnight.
+
+Then once again the stillness as of death.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
+
+SMITH FINDS SOMETHING WRONG.
+
+"You heard nothing?" said the doctor.
+
+"Nothing at all.  I went to bed at the usual time, sir," said the
+butler--"half-past ten--yes, sir, I've the chaise waiting; won't you
+come in that, and I can tell you as we drive over?"
+
+"Yes; all right," said the doctor, and five minutes later they were
+rattling along the road towards the Hall.
+
+"Now, go on," said North.  "Yes, sir; I went to bed as usual, and slept
+very soundly till about an hour ago, and then I suddenly woke.  I don't
+know what made me wake; but I did, and somehow began thinking, as I've
+often thought before, about the plate in the pantry, and whether it was
+safe."
+
+"Don't you sleep in the pantry?"
+
+"No, sir; it's so damp.  So I lay telling myself it was all nonsense and
+fancy; but the more I thought so, the more uncomfortable I grew, till I
+could stand it no longer, and I got up, slipped on my trousers and
+great-coat, and went to the top of the stairs, where I felt quite a
+chill, as I knew something was not as it should be, for the lamp was not
+turned out on the hall table."
+
+"What lamp?"
+
+"The hall lamp that Sir Luke always puts out himself when he goes up to
+bed."
+
+"Where do you say you left him last night?"
+
+"In the billiard-room, sir, playing with Mr Tom, sir."
+
+"Yes; go on."
+
+"So I went down, sir; and there saw through the baize door that the lamp
+was burning at the end of the passage at the foot of the billiard-room
+stairs."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And as soon as I got through the baize door, there, under the lamp, lay
+my poor master, all like of a heap."
+
+"What did you do?"
+
+"Ran to him, and tried to put him in a more comfortable position, sir;
+but--"
+
+"Yes; I understand."
+
+"Then I rushed up and called Mr Tom, sir; and we went to the squire
+together, and rang the bells and alarmed the house.  Then, as soon as
+the boy had put the horse in the chaise, sir, I drove over to fetch
+you."
+
+"But did you do nothing to try and revive him?"
+
+"Oh! yes, sir; but--"
+
+"I understand," said the doctor.  "And Mr Tom?"
+
+"He couldn't believe it, sir.  He said he played billiards with the
+squire for some time, and then grew tired and went to bed, leaving him
+knocking the balls about, and it's all very plain, sir.  I tell you of
+course, though I wouldn't say so to another soul, poor Sir Luke used to
+take a great deal too much.  I filled the spirit stand only this
+morning, and the brandy decanter was quite empty.  He had a deal too, at
+dinner, before."
+
+"And you think he pitched downstairs, Smith?"
+
+"Yes, sir; that is my belief," said the butler; "and Mr Tom seemed to
+think so too."
+
+They reached the Hall to find every one in a state of the most intense
+excitement, but an ominous silence reigning through the place.
+
+"Thank goodness you've come at last," cried a familiar voice, and Tom
+hurried to meet North.  "Pray be quick; he is insensible still."
+
+The doctor looked at the young man curiously.
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"We carried him into the dining-room, and laid him on a sofa; but he has
+not stirred since.  I'm afraid something is broken."
+
+As he spoke he led North into the dining-room, where the candles were
+burning, the shutters were closed, and curtains drawn; and there, upon a
+couch in the middle of the room, lay Sir Luke Candlish, as his brother
+had said, without having moved since he had been borne carefully in.
+
+The doctor's examination was short, and Tom Candlish stood looking on,
+apparently too much overcome to speak.
+
+"Well," he said at last, "is he very bad?  Is anything broken?"
+
+The doctor raised his eyebrows, and could have replied "his neck," but
+he said simply: "Bad, sir?  Can you not see that he is dead?"
+
+"Dead?" ejaculated Tom; and his jaw dropped, while his face assumed a
+look of intense horror.
+
+"Yes, sir.  The butler's theory seems to be quite correct.  Sir Luke
+must have pitched headlong from the top of the stairs to the bottom."
+
+"And there is no hope?"
+
+The doctor shook his head, and laid his hand upon the young man's arm,
+signing to him to quit the room.
+
+Tom followed mechanically.
+
+"So horrible!" he said, as soon as they were in the drawing-room.  "We
+were playing billiards together till late last night, while now--Yes,
+what is it?"
+
+"I beg pardon.  _Sir Thomas_," said the old butler softly, "the
+housekeeper said would you and Dr North like a cup of tea?"
+
+"Sir Thomas!"  The title made Tom Candlish thrill as he stood gazing at
+the speaker.  So soon!  _Le Roi est mort!  Vive le Roi_!
+
+He was Sir Thomas Candlish.  The estate was his and the rent-roll of at
+least five thousand a year.  Last night he was enraged at the
+possibility of trouble arising from Thompson.  Now he was a free man: he
+was rich.
+
+And his brother?
+
+It was his secret.  And why should he trouble about the sudden death?
+It was an accident, and his own counsel could easily be kept.  There was
+none to reveal the truth.  The dead could never speak.
+
+As he mused like this, and the butler brought in the tea, Dr North was
+lost in a fit of musing, for, like a flash, the scientific fancy upon
+which he had so long pondered came to him, so that for the moment he
+stood breathless and gazing wildly at the door which seemed to open
+before him.
+
+The idea was bewildering.  Leo had bidden her suitor distinguish himself
+as the price at which her love was to be won; and the more he thought,
+the more the idea shone out, dazzling him by its intense light--shining
+into the dark places of his soul.
+
+What was his theory?  That if a hale, hearty man were suddenly cut off
+by some accident, and apparently dead, could he arrest decay, Nature
+herself would repair the injury done, even as a fractured bone rapidly
+knits together and becomes stronger than before.
+
+Here, then, was a hale, hearty man suddenly cut down; he was the medical
+man in attendance, and the opportunity served for restoring this man to
+life.  Why should he not make his first essay now?
+
+The idea grew more terrible in its intensity hour by hour.  It was his
+chance if he would grasp it.  Impious?  No, not more so than performing
+an operation or trying to save a sufferer from death.  But he was dead.
+
+"What we call dead," muttered North; "but why not suspended animation?
+For her sake, for my own fame, to achieve a success such as the world
+has not heard of before, I must--I will make the essay."
+
+"But how?"
+
+"And suppose I make him live once more--what then?"
+
+The idea blinded him, and he covered his eyes to think.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
+
+"AH!"
+
+"How horrible!" the curate said, when he heard the news from North, who
+came in at breakfast time.
+
+As he spoke these words, Leo entered the room, and stopped short, gazing
+from one to the other.
+
+She had come down looking happy and contented, with a satisfied smile
+upon her curved lips, heightened by a rather mocking light which danced
+in her eyes, as they encountered those of the doctor.  There was a
+feeling of triumph, the satisfaction of a vain, weak woman at the sight
+of the slave ready to cast himself at her feet, and her manner was
+coquettish as she held out her hand.
+
+But her brother's ejaculation, the stern look on the doctor's face,
+chilled her, and she stopped short, looking from one to the other, her
+lips parting as if for the utterance of words which would not come.
+
+"What is it?" she said at last, wildly.  "What is horrible?"
+
+"Hush, Leo!" said the curate, taking her hand; "don't be alarmed."
+
+"But you said--"
+
+"Yes; North has brought in terrible news from the Hall."
+
+Leo's face turned ghastly, and she clung to her brother, while North
+hurriedly placed a chair, into which she sank, but only to sit up
+rigidly, as she stared with widely opened eyes at the doctor.
+
+"Be calm," he said tenderly.  "You are still weak."
+
+"What is it?" she said, in a voice that did not sound like her own.
+
+"It would be better that you should not know," said North.  "There has
+been a sad accident at the Hall."
+
+"I must know now," panted Leo, as she opened and closed her hands in her
+excitement.
+
+"It would be better to speak," said the curate.  "My sisters have been
+schooled to trouble, North.  There has been a terribly sudden calamity
+at the Hall, Leo, dear.  North was called up in the night, and--"
+
+"Is he dead?" she whispered hoarsely; and then reading her answer in the
+eyes of both, she uttered a long, low, "Ah!" and sat with her hand
+tightening upon her brother's, while she closed her eyes, and an
+agonising spasm seemed to contract her beautiful face.
+
+"A fit of giddiness seems to have seized Sir Luke, and he fell headlong
+from the top of the stairs to the bottom."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+Once more that strange expiration of the breath, which sounded to the
+listeners precisely the same, for their senses were not attuned with
+sufficient keenness to detect the difference.
+
+"I am sorry to have given you this terrible shock, Leo," said North
+tenderly; "but I felt bound to come and let Salis know."
+
+She did not reply directly, but sat there spasmodically clinging to her
+brother's hand with fingers that were damp and cold.
+
+"I am better now," she said at last, in a low whisper.  "It is very
+terrible.  Does Mary know?"
+
+"Not yet," said Salis.  "I am going to fetch her down.  Has the
+faintness passed away?"
+
+"Yes--yes!" she said hastily.  "It was the suddenness of the news.  Try
+not to startle Mary, Hartley; but she is not such a coward as I am."
+
+"You have been so ill," said North tenderly.  "Your nerves are unstrung.
+Besides, it is a great shock to hear of so awfully sudden a death."
+
+"Go and tell Mary," said Leo, rising.  "I am quite well now.  Speak
+gently."
+
+"Yes," said the curate; and he left the room.
+
+"Tell me," said Leo, as soon as the door closed.  "How was it?  Was
+there any quarrel?  It was an accident?"
+
+She spoke in a hurriedly excited manner, and there was a wildly anxious
+look in her eyes.
+
+"You are excited," said North, taking her hand, half professionally,
+half with the anxious touch of a lover; but she snatched it away with an
+angry flash from her eyes.
+
+She saw his pained look, and held out her hand the next moment.
+
+"If the pulse beats quickly," she said, smiling, "it is no wonder."
+
+"No, no, of course not," he cried, taking her hand, and holding it in
+his.
+
+"Now, tell me."
+
+"Oh, it was an accident," he said, "undoubtedly.  I'm afraid there was a
+reason for it."
+
+Leo was silent, looking at North searchingly.
+
+"Oh, yes, I understand now," she said quickly.  "He drank very much, did
+he not?"
+
+"I'm afraid so," replied North, feeling half troubled at the intimate
+knowledge displayed by the woman he loved.
+
+"It is very horrible," said Leo, closing her eyes.  "Hush! they are
+coming down.  Say as little as you can.  Mary is very weak."
+
+For the curate's heavy step was heard upon the stairs, and directly
+after, as North hastened to open the door, Salis entered, carrying Mary
+in his arms, she looking white and anxious, and gazing quickly from her
+sister to North and back.
+
+There was an interchange of glances all round, and then, as if by common
+consent, the subject of the past night was avoided for a time, and North
+turned to go.
+
+"But you will stay breakfast?" said Mary.  "You look tired and worn
+out."
+
+She coloured slightly, for the words, full of anxiety for North's
+welfare, had escaped her inadvertently; and the colour deepened as, in
+his pleasantly frank way, he smiled in her face.
+
+"It is very good of you," he said.  "You are always so thoughtful.  If
+Leo will only endorse the invitation, I shall be very glad to stay."
+
+"I'm sure we shall be very pleased," said Leo calmly; and he crossed to
+her side, bent down, and said, in low tone:
+
+"I like that."
+
+"You like what?" she said coolly enough.
+
+"The brave way in which you have mastered your weakness."
+
+She smiled and looked furtively at her sister, who was less successful
+in controlling her feelings.
+
+The breakfast passed over without further allusion to the catastrophe at
+the Hall till towards the end, when Salis said suddenly:
+
+"I have a very unpleasant duty to perform."
+
+Mary looked up anxiously.
+
+"Yes, dear; I must go over and see Thomas Candlish."
+
+Leo bent over her cup.
+
+"It is a duty that I must fulfil, North."
+
+"Yes," said the doctor gravely; "especially at a time like this."
+
+"How horrible!"
+
+And when the doctor left soon after, and he shook hands with his friend
+again, the latter once more exclaimed:
+
+"How horrible!"
+
+But it was in allusion to the sudden termination of the career of a man
+who drank heavily, and there was no _arriere pensee_ as to the
+possibility of a quarrel between the two young men.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
+
+THE DOCTOR'S OPPORTUNITY.
+
+About midday, on his return from visiting his patients, North looked
+rather black.
+
+Perhaps it was the reflection from the sleek, superfine garments of his
+cousin, for that gentleman was walking slowly up and down on the lawn in
+front of the old Manor House, and in no way adding to the attractions of
+the quaintly-cut, well-kept place.  "You here, Thompson!"
+
+"Yes, my dear Horace; I had to come down on business to-day, and I
+thought you would give me a bit of lunch before I went on."
+
+"To see Mrs Berens?"
+
+"Well--er--perhaps I may give her a call; but my business was with--dear
+me, how strange that you should take any interest in social matters that
+have nothing to do with the body!"
+
+"Am I such a very eccentric man, then, that I should study my profession
+hard?"
+
+"Not at all, my dear fellow--not at all.  I study mine hard, my dear
+Horace.  Left almost penniless, it was a necessity, and I have, I am
+proud to say, been very successful, and am practically independent.  But
+my visit here to-day was not to see the handsome widow--there, don't
+blush, old fellow."
+
+"Don't be a fool, Thompson," said the doctor testily.  "Now, then, what
+were you going to say?"
+
+"I was going to tell you that my visit would be to the Hall."
+
+"To the Hall?" cried North excitedly.  "Yes.  Here, what's the matter?"
+said Cousin Thompson excitedly.  "He hasn't given me the slip?"
+
+"If you mean Sir Luke Candlish--"
+
+"No," said Thompson harshly; "I don't mean Luke Candlish.  Here, why
+don't you speak, man?  Has Tom Candlish gone?"
+
+"No; he is at the Hall; but--"
+
+"That's all right, then," said Cousin Thompson, drawing a breath of
+relief.  "Oh, I see, you've been over."
+
+"Yes, I have been over."
+
+"And he is shamming illness again because he expected me to-day.  But it
+won't do, Horace--it won't do.  Come, now, he's quite well, isn't he?
+Don't turn against your own cousin, and back him up."
+
+"Tom Candlish is as well as a man can be under such horrible
+circumstances.  His brother is dead."
+
+"Phew!" whistled the lawyer--a long-drawn, low, deep whistle.  "Then he
+is now Sir Thomas Candlish."
+
+"Yes, and if you have lent him money at usury it will be all right."
+
+"At usury!" snarled the lawyer; "don't you be so fond of using that
+word.  I must make money, and lending at interest is fair enough."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"Going down to the Hall at once."
+
+"You said you had come to lunch."
+
+"Hang your lunch!  I must see Tom Candlish."
+
+"Impossible.  It would not be decent to go on business now."
+
+"Decent or indecent, I must see him at once."
+
+"My cousin; and how cordially I do dislike him!" muttered the doctor, as
+he watched the sleek, black back of his visitor as he went down towards
+the gate.  "To go at a time like this!  Well, thank goodness, I am not a
+money-grubber."
+
+He sat down in his study, and took a manuscript book from his drawer.
+Over this book he began to pore, but the words danced before his eyes,
+and he could think of nothing but Luke Candlish, the hale, strong man,
+suddenly cut off by accident, and of Leo's words bidding him distinguish
+himself.
+
+"No rest last night," he said, throwing the book back into the drawer;
+"I can't read, or think, or do anything."
+
+"Are you ready for your lunch, sir?" said Mrs Milt.  "Mr Thompson will
+join you, I suppose?"
+
+"No; but I dare say he will come to dinner."
+
+"Ho!  Lunch is quite ready, sir," said the old lady, in an ill-used
+tone, as the doctor moved towards the door.
+
+"Never mind; I can't eat to-day.  Going out," said North hastily; and he
+hurriedly left the house, and passed down the village, where every one
+was discussing the accident at the Hall, and longed to question him, if
+such a thing could have been ventured upon.
+
+He had not seen Moredock for two or three days, and almost immediately,
+to avoid the torture of his thoughts, and what was rapidly approaching
+the stage of a great temptation, he walked to the old sexton's cottage.
+
+The door was ajar, and he tapped, but there was no reply, and the only
+sound within was the regular beat of the great clock as the heavy
+pendulum swung to and fro.
+
+"Asleep, perhaps," he said to himself, and pushing the door, he walked
+in; but the big arm-chair was vacant, and after a glance round, in which
+his eyes rested for a moment upon the old carved oak coffer, the doctor
+went slowly out, and, without considering which way he should go, walked
+straight on towards the church.
+
+A sound, as of something falling, made him raise his eyes, and he saw
+that the chancel door was open.
+
+"What's Salis doing there?" he said to himself; and, entering the gate,
+he walked up the steps to the open doorway.
+
+"You here, Salis?" he said.
+
+"Nay, sir," came back, in a harsh, familiar tone; "parson's been and
+gone.  Things is looking up again, doctor."
+
+"Looking up?"
+
+"Ay.  Been trebble quiet lately: only a bit of a child as hasn't been
+chrissen' this month past.  Horrible healthy place, Dook's Hampton."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"Doing?  Here?  Why, haven't you heard as the young squire--why, of
+course you have; you were called up this morning.  Well, he's got to be
+buried, hasn't he?"
+
+"Buried?  Yes, of course," said the doctor thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes; he's got to be buried," said Moredock.  "Some says it arn't decent
+and like Christians, as ought to be buried tight in the brown earth.
+But they don't know, doctor.  They can't tell what a lot o' water there
+is in the ground o' winters.  I know, and I know what 'matics is.
+Nobody knows how damp that there churchyard is better than I do,
+doctor."
+
+North stood looking at the sexton, but his thoughts were far away.
+
+"Ay, Squire Luke 'll be buried in the morslem--he'll lie with his
+fathers, as Scripter says; and when I die, which won't be this twenty
+year, that's how I'd like to lie with my fathers.  Stretched out nice
+and warm in his lead coffin, that's how he's going to be, and put on a
+nice dry shelf.  Ay, it's a nasty damp old churchyard, doctor, and well
+they folk in Church Row know it.  He, he, he! their wells is allus full
+o' nice clean water, but I allus goes to the fur pump."
+
+North did not seem to hear a word, but stood holding on by the rail of
+the Candlish tomb, thinking.  His head swam with the dazzling light that
+blazed into his understanding.  He was confused, and full of wonder,
+hesitation, and doubt.
+
+Luke Candlish--dead--the mausoleum--the hale, hearty young man--struck
+down.
+
+"Good heavens!" he ejaculated; "has my opportunity come--at last?"
+
+END OF VOLUME ONE.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter I.
+
+THE FIRST BARONET'S TOMB.
+
+As Horace North battled with his thoughts, Moredock chuckled and went
+on:
+
+"They drinks it, doctor, the idiots, and all the time they say it's
+horrid to eat a bit o' churchyard mutton.  Squire Luke didn't care,
+though.  He wouldn't have said no to a bit o' mutton 'cause it was
+pastured in the churchyard.  But he has to send they sheep right t'other
+side o' the county to sell 'em.  Folks 'bout here wouldn't touch a bit
+o' churchyard mutton.  Such stuff!  Keeps the graves nibbled off clean
+and neat.  Don't hurt they.  Mutton's sweet enough, and so they goes on
+drinking the water all round the yard, as is piled up with dead folk as
+I've buried, and my father and grandfather before me.  Ay, they drinks
+the water, but wouldn't touch the mutton; they'd rather starve.  Damp
+churchyard; and squire 'll lay snug on his dry shelf, and me--some day--
+in the cold, wet ground."
+
+"It all comes to the same thing, Moredock," said the doctor, rousing
+himself.
+
+"May be, doctor: may be as you're right," said the old man, shaking his
+head solemnly--"`Ashes to ashes, dust to dust;' but there's a deal o'
+differ, and it takes a deal longer to come to that.  I say, doctor,
+'member what I said to you 'bout squire drinking himself to death?" said
+the old man, stooping to pick up a crowbar that he had let fall a few
+minutes before.
+
+"Yes," said North, gazing thoughtfully at the old man, and hardly
+realising what he said.
+
+"More strange things happen than what I told you.  I knowed it wouldn't
+be long before he drank himself to death."
+
+"The squire died from an accident, Moredock," said the doctor sternly.
+
+"Ay, but what made the accident?" said the old man, with a chuckle.
+"Was it steps, was it bottles, was it corks?  Nay, it were something
+inside the bottle.  Drop o' brandy's good, but when you gets too much,
+it's poison."
+
+The doctor did not speak, only stood just inside the chancel door,
+gazing fixedly at the old man, with his thoughts wandering from the
+mausoleum built by the vestry, to the squire's remains lying up at the
+Hall, and his strange schemes, by which humanity might, perhaps, be
+spared much pain and care.
+
+"I've took the last o' that there physic, doctor."
+
+"Perhaps be of incalculable benefit to coming generations," mused the
+doctor, as he went on dreaming, standing there with one hand resting on
+the tomb rail, and seeming to look through the present in the shape of
+the crabbed and gnarled old sexton to a future where all was health and
+strength.
+
+"It was rare stuff, doctor," continued old Moredock, with a chuckle, as
+he glanced sidewise at the dreaming man.  "Mussy me! a drop o' that
+allus seemed to make my toes tingle, and it went right up into the roots
+of my hair."
+
+"Why not--why not try?"  It seemed a great experiment, but how little as
+compared with what had been done of old!  "Why not--why not try?"
+
+"You'll let me have another bottle, doctor.  It does me a sight of
+good."
+
+"I must.  It seems like fate urging me on.  It is for her--to do
+something to distinguish myself.  Here is the opportunity, and I
+hesitate."
+
+"One day I took a dose, doctor, and I thought it was trubble nasty, but
+five minutes after I said to myself, this beats brandy from the inn.
+They sperrets don't make your fingers go cricking and your toes tingle.
+Rare stuff, doctor.  What's he gone to sleep?"
+
+"Yes, I will do it; but how?  No; it is impossible."
+
+"You'll let me have another bottle o' that there physic, doctor, won't
+yer?"
+
+"Physic, Moredock?  Physic?" said the doctor, starting.  "You don't
+require more now."
+
+"Ah! but I do.  See what a lot o' good last lot did me.  I'm a deal
+stronger than I used to were.  You'll let me have another bottle,
+doctor?"
+
+"Well, well, I'll see.  Terrible job this, Moredock."
+
+"Ay, it be trubble job, doctor.  I'm going to open the morslem.  Say,
+doctor, 'member what I said 'bout my Dally.  Be strange thing if she got
+to be missus up at Hall now.  Why, he be dreaming like again," he added
+to himself.
+
+"Remember what?" said the doctor.  "Your Dally--the Rectory maid?"
+
+"Ay, doctor; seems as if them as is maids may be missuses.  Who knows,
+eh?"
+
+"Who knows, you old wretch!" cried the doctor angrily.  "You look
+sharply after your grandchild, for fear trouble should come."
+
+"All right, doctor, I will.  I'll look out, and I'm not going to quarrel
+with you.  I arn't forgot what you did when I cut my hand with the
+spade."
+
+"And suffered from blood poisoning, eh?  Ah!  I saved your life then,
+Moredock."
+
+"And you will again, won't you, doctor?" said the old man smoothly; "for
+I've a deal to do yet.  Don't be jealous, doctor.  If my gal gets to be
+my lady you shall 'tend her.  You're a clever one, doctor; but there, I
+must go on, for I've a deal to do."
+
+The old man gave the doctor a ghoul-like smile, and went off to busy
+himself, doing nothing apparently, though he was busier than might have
+been supposed; while, as if unable to tear himself away, Horace North
+stood holding on to the railing of the tomb in the chancel--the tomb
+where the founder of the family lay--the next in descent of the line of
+baronets having preferred to build the noble mausoleum on the opposite
+side, where it looked like a handsome chapel of the fine old
+ecclesiastical structure; and it would be there that the last dead
+baronet would in a few days lie.
+
+North gazed straight before him, as he held on by that metal rail of the
+Candlish tomb, with a dark plunge before him, and beyond that, after
+battling with the waters of discovery, a wonderland opening out, wherein
+he was about to explore, to find fame and win the woman he told himself
+he loved, and who, he believed, loved him as dearly in return.  And yet
+all the while, as, from time to time, Moredock looked in with a smile,
+after pottering about the entrance to the mausoleum, whose keys he held,
+the doctor seemed to be staring at the Candlish tomb, which took up so
+much of the chancel, just as its occupant had taken up space when he was
+alive.
+
+It was a curious structure, that tomb, curious as the railings which the
+doctor held.  The edifice resembled nothing so much as an ornamental,
+extremely cramped, four-post bedstead, built in marble, with the
+palisade to keep the vulgar from coming too close to the stony effigy of
+the great Sir Wyckeley Candlish, Baronet, of the days of good King
+James; the more especially that, in company with his wife, Dame
+Candlish, he had apparently gone to bed with all his clothes on.  He had
+been, unless the sculptor's chisel had lied, a man like a bull-headed
+butcher who had married a cook, and she was represented in her puffs and
+furbelows, and he in his stuffed breeches and rosetted shoes, feathered
+cap, and short cape.  His feet had the appearance of ornaments, not
+members for use; and his lady's hands, joined in prayer, were like small
+gloves, as they lay there side by side.  A pair of ornaments upon which
+their posterity might gaze what time they came to read the eulogy in
+Latin carved in a panel of the stone bedstead, with arms and
+escutcheons, and mottoes and puffs that were not true, after the fashion
+of the time.
+
+It was a curious specimen of old-world vanity, so large that it seemed
+as if it were the principal object of the place--an idol altar, with its
+gods, about which the chancel had been built for protection.
+
+"What trash!" exclaimed North, when he suddenly seemed to awaken to the
+object at which he gazed, "as if a Candlish was ever of any value in
+this world--ever did one good or virtuous act."
+
+"Any good in this world?  Why not at last.  Everything seems to point to
+it.  Even the worst of the race might do some good.  I'll hesitate no
+longer.  He can't refuse me."
+
+"Doctor!  Been asleep?"
+
+"Asleep, man?  No.  Never more thoroughly awake."
+
+"I asked you to let me have another bottle of that--the tingling stuff.
+It done me a mort o' good."
+
+"Yes, yes," said North huskily.  "You shall have some more, old man!"
+
+"Ay; that's right," said the old fellow, giving his hands a rub.
+"Couldn't tell me what it is, could you, so as I might get some of it
+myself without troubling you?"
+
+"What is it?  One of my secrets, Moredock, just as you have yours.
+Trust me, and you shall have as much as is for your good."
+
+"Hah! that's right, doctor; that's right," chuckled the old fellow
+horribly.  "I mean to live a long time yet, and may as well do it
+comfortably.  I'll come round to your surgery to-night, and--hist!" he
+whispered; "is there anything I can bring?"
+
+"No--no," said the doctor hastily; "but, Moredock, I do want you to do
+something for me."
+
+"Eh?  I do something for you, doctor?  It isn't money, is it?"
+
+"Money, man?  No; I'll tell you what I want."
+
+"Hist! parson!" said the old man, giving him a nudge, as a familiar step
+was heard upon the gravel path of the churchyard; and, directly after,
+the tall figure of the curate darkened the door.
+
+"Ah!  North; you here?  Having a look round?"
+
+"Yes," said the doctor; "and a chat with my old patient."
+
+"Ah!" said the curate, shaking his head at the sexton.
+
+"Doctor's going to let me have another bottle of the stuff as I told you
+'bout, sir."
+
+"Indeed!" said Salis, rather gruffly.  "I wish you could do without so
+many bottles of stuff, Moredock.  But, there, I wanted to see you about
+the preparations."
+
+"Don't you trouble yourself about that, sir," grumbled the old fellow.
+"It ain't the first time a Candlish has died, and I've put things ready.
+That'll be all right, sir.  That's my business.  You shan't have no
+cause to complain."
+
+"Be a little extra particular about the church and the yard, Moredock;
+and, above all, have those sheep out.  Mr May writes me word that he
+shall come down from town on purpose to read the service over Sir Luke,
+and he hates to see sheep in the churchyard."
+
+"'Member what I said, doctor?" chuckled the old man.  "But what am I to
+do, sir?  Churchwarden Sir Luke had 'em put there; who's to order 'em to
+be took away?"
+
+"I will!" said the curate sharply.  "There, that will do."
+
+Moredock trudged away.
+
+"I'm afraid I have a morbid antipathy to that old man," said the curate.
+
+"Ah, he's a character."
+
+"Yes, and a bad one, too: I'm glad we have his grandchild away from
+him."
+
+"So am I, and if I were you, Salis, I'd keep a sharp look-out on the
+girl."
+
+"Yes, of course!" said the curate impatiently.  "But you heard what I
+said about May coming down?"
+
+"Yes; but what does that matter?"
+
+"Only a long series of lectures to me, which makes my blood boil.  I've
+had another unpleasantly, too.  I went up to the Hall to see--Sir
+Thomas--I suppose I must call him now, and he sent me out an insolent
+message; at least, I thought it so."
+
+"Never mind, old fellow; we all have our troubles."
+
+"Not going to trouble," said the curate quietly.  "Coming my way?"
+
+"No.  I want another word with Moredock, and then I'm going home."
+
+"Ah, he's a queer old fellow," said the curate, glancing towards the
+sexton as he went round the chancel with a crowbar over his shoulder,
+the old man turning to give both a cunning, magpie-like look, as he went
+out of sight.
+
+The two friends parted, and then North followed the sexton.
+
+"I don't like it," he muttered.  "Salis would be horrified; he would
+never forgive me; and yet to win the sister's, I am risking the
+brother's love.  Oh, but it is more than that," he said excitedly; "far
+more than that.  It is in the service of science and of humanity at
+large.  I can't help it.  I must--I will!"
+
+There was tremendous emphasis on that "I will!" and, as if now fully
+resolved, he went to where the old sexton was scraping and chopping
+about the entrance of the mausoleum, and sometimes stooping to drag out
+a luxuriant weed.
+
+"Ah, doctor," he said; "back again?  Parson's a bit hard on me.  I hope
+he hasn't been running me down."
+
+"Nonsense!  No.  Look here, Moredock, you have always expressed a desire
+to serve me?"
+
+"Yes, doctor; of course."
+
+"Then, look here," said North, bending down towards the old man.  "I
+want you to--"
+
+He finished his speech in a low voice by the old man's ear.
+
+"You want what?" was the reply.
+
+The doctor whispered to him again more earnestly than before.
+
+The old man let the crowbar fall to his side, his jaw dropped, and he
+stood in a stooping position, staring.
+
+"You want me to do that, doctor?" he whispered, with a tremble in his
+voice.
+
+"Yes, I want your help in this."
+
+"No, no, doctor; I couldn't indeed!"
+
+"You could, Moredock; and you will!"
+
+The old man shivered.
+
+"I've done a deal," he whispered; "and I've seen a deal; but oh, doctor!
+don't ask me to do this."
+
+"I don't ask you," said the doctor sternly.  "I only say you must--you
+shall!"
+
+Volume 2, Chapter II.
+
+"A FINE BERRIN'."
+
+Boom!
+
+The big tenor bell made the louvres rattle in the tower windows, as it
+sent forth its sonorous note to announce far and wide that the Candlish
+mausoleum was open and ready to receive the remains of the last owner of
+the title conferred by King James.
+
+_Boom_! again: so heavy and deep a sound that it seemed to strike the
+cottage windows and rebound like a wave, to go quivering off upon the
+wind and collect the people from far and near.
+
+It was early yet, but one little trim-looking body was astir, in the
+person of Dally Watlock, who stole out of the back door at the Rectory,
+made her way into the meadows, hurried down to the river, and along
+behind the Manor House, and so reached the churchyard at the back, where
+the vestry door in the north-east corner was easily accessible.
+
+Dally walked and ran, looking sharply from side to side to see if she
+were noticed, gave a quick glance at the steps leading down to the
+mausoleum, and longed to peep in, but refrained, and darted in at the
+vestry door.
+
+She knew the vestry would be empty, for she had left the curate at home,
+and she had heard that the Reverend Maurice May would not be over for
+nearly an hour, so there was an excellent chance for her to obtain the
+seat she wished, and see the funeral, and to that end she had come.
+
+"How tiresome!" she cried, giving the oaken door in the corner of the
+vestry an angry thump.  "Locked!"
+
+_Boom_! went the big bell.
+
+"And gran'fa's got the key," she cried.  "I'll make him give it to me."
+
+Dally looked a good deal like a big black rabbit turned by a fairy into
+a girl, as she darted out of the vestry, and dodged in and out among the
+tombstones and old vaults on her way round to the big west door in the
+tower, from which came another loud boom to fly quivering away upon the
+air.
+
+The big door was ajar, and yielded readily to her touch as she thrust,
+and the next minute she had entered, and pushed it to, to stand facing
+old Moredock, as he dragged away at the rope and brought forth from the
+big tenor another heavy boom.
+
+The old man was in his shirt-sleeves, and his coat hung up behind the
+door, with his cap above it, so that it bore a strong resemblance to the
+old sexton, who had apparently been bringing his existence to an end by
+means of a piece of rope belonging to a bell.
+
+"Hallo, Dally!" said the old man, giving her one of his ghoulish grins,
+as if proud of the yellow tooth still left; "what have you come for?"
+
+"I want to see squire's funeral, gran'fa.  To get a good place."
+
+"Ah, I know'd you'd come," said the old man.  "I say, Dally; Sir Tom
+Candlish, eh?  Have you tried how it sounds?"
+
+"What nonsense, gran'fa! and do a-done.  You'll have some one hear you."
+
+"He--he--he!  Let 'em," chuckled the old man; "let 'em.  Sir Thomas
+Candlish, eh?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean," said the girl, giving her head a vain
+toss.
+
+_Boom_! went the bell, after the rope had rattled; and the old man
+groaned with the effort.
+
+"He--he--he!  No, no, you don't know," he chuckled, moving sidewise, and
+giving the girl a sharp nudge with his elbow.  "But, my word, Dally, you
+do look pretty this morning."
+
+"Don't, gran'fa.  What stuff!"
+
+"Oh, but you do," said the old man, looking at her critically; "and fine
+and smart too for coming to a funeral."
+
+"Why, you wouldn't have had me wear black, gran'fa, would you?"
+
+They were quite alone in the belfry, and as the old man talked, he from
+time to time gave a steady pull at the rope, and a heavy, jarring _boom_
+was the result.
+
+"Ah, and I might have said wear black, if I'd ha' thought of it," said
+the old man, examining the girl from top to toe.
+
+"Then I hadn't got any black, and if I had I would not have worn it,
+because it makes one look so ugly," said the girl, giving her head
+another toss.  "Now do tell me where to go.  I want to see well.  Can't
+you put me up in that loft place over the vestry?"
+
+"What! where you could see down into squire's pew?" said the old man,
+giving another tug at the rope.
+
+"Yes, gran'fa; it's a nice snug place, where no one could see me."
+
+"Oh, yes, they could," said the old man, chuckling.  "Anybody looked up
+from the squire's pew he could see your bonny face."
+
+"I'm sure I didn't know," said the girl; "and you're very fond of
+calling it a bonny face all at once.  You said one day I was an ugly
+little witch."
+
+"Did I?" said the old man, whose voice was nearly drowned by the boom he
+produced from the bell.  "I s'pose I was cross that day.  But, Dally,
+why didn't you come and ask your old grandfather for some money to buy
+black?"
+
+"Because he'd have called me an idle hussy, and told me to go about my
+business," said the girl pertly.
+
+"No, he wouldn't, my dear," said the old man, tugging at the rope.
+"He'd have given you enough to buy a new silk dress, and a bonnet and
+feather--black 'uns, so that you might have come to the berrin' looking
+as well as the best of 'em."
+
+"Would you, gran'fa?" cried the girl, with her eyes sparkling.
+
+"Ay, that I would, my chuck, and the noo squire could have seen you,
+and--hist!"--_boom_!--"he'd have thought more of you than ever."
+
+"Oh, for shame, gran'fa," said Dally.  "You shouldn't.  But will you
+give me the money now?"
+
+"It's too late, my chucky."
+
+"No, no, it isn't, gran'fa."
+
+"But you must mind what you're doing, Dally."
+
+Another tug at the bell-rope, and a loud _boom_! made the place quiver.
+
+"I don't understand you, gran'pa."
+
+"Oh, yes, you do.  There, you come and see me to-night--no, to-morrow
+morning, and I'll see what I can do."
+
+"You dear old gran'fa!" cried the girl.  "But make haste; I want to go
+into that loft.  You've got the key."
+
+"Have I?"
+
+"Yes, and if you don't make haste, Mr Salis and Mr May will be here,
+and I can't get through the vestry."
+
+"Ah well, you feel in my pocket there--in the coat behind the door.
+It's the littlest key."
+
+The girl darted to the old coat, and the next minute had drawn out four
+keys, all polished by long usage, the littlest being a great implement,
+big enough to use for a weapon of war.
+
+"There," said old Moredock, chuckling; "bring it back to me when you've
+done."
+
+"Yes, gran'fa."
+
+"And mind young squire don't see you."
+
+"Oh, gran'fa, of course I will."
+
+Rope rattle, boom, and a loud chuckle.
+
+"Ah, that you will, Dally.  There, be off, and don't forget to come to
+me to-morrow morning."
+
+"I shan't forget, gran'fa," cried the girl, hurrying out, and going
+round by the back of the church to the vestry door, as another loud boom
+rang out from the church tower.
+
+People were gathering, but Dally was not seen, and passing into the
+vestry, she opened the old oaken door in the corner, drew out the key to
+insert it on the other side, draw it to after her and lock herself in,
+and stand panting for a few moments before ascending the narrow,
+corkscrew staircase, which led to the traceried opening in the side of
+the chancel, from which place she could have an excellent view of all
+that was about to take place.
+
+For it was to be "a fine berrin'."
+
+This was the accepted term for Luke Candlish's funeral.
+
+His brother, Tom, heir to the title and estate, consequent upon Luke's
+single life, had given orders to the London undertaker--very much to the
+disgust of the King's Hampton carpenter and upholsterer, as his
+sign-board announced, for this individual wanted to know why he couldn't
+bury the squire as well as a Londoner--that everything should be worthy
+of the family.  So the London man had brought down his third best suite
+of funeral paraphernalia.  The first was retained for magnates: the
+second for London folk of rank; the third for the leading country
+families, who always ordered and believed they had the beat.
+
+But it was very nearly the same.  The ostrich plumes of sable hue were
+common to all ranks, and the velvet and silk palls and carriages that
+were used for the higher magnates one year, descended to the second
+place a year or so later, and then came into country use.  It was only a
+question of freshness, and what could that matter when the eyes of the
+mourners were so veiled with tears that they could not tell the new from
+the old?
+
+So it was a fine berrin', with the carriages of all the neighbouring
+gentry sent down to follow, and a most impressive service, which, read
+impressively by the rector, who had driven over from King's Hampton,
+sounded almost blasphemous to Hartley Salis, who had the misfortune to
+know the character of the deceased by heart.  The coffin of polished
+mahogany, with gilt handles, had been greatly admired; the favoured few
+had read the inscription; and when it was borne from the Hall to the
+church, that edifice was fairly well filled, and the carriages extended
+from the lych-gate right away down to Moredock's cottage--three hundred
+yards.
+
+It was a funeral, but to very few was it a scene of sadness, being
+looked upon as a sight quite as interesting as a wedding, and the
+lookers-on had duly noted who descended from the various carriages to
+enter the church, among the followers being Cousin Thompson, who had
+found it necessary to stay down at his cousin's house with Horace North,
+to transact a certain amount of business for the new baronet.
+
+The doctor was not well pleased, for the society of his cousin bored him
+just at a time when his mind was full of great ideas which he was
+anxious to carry out; but he submitted with as good a grace as he could
+assume, and at the funeral they sat side by side in one of the
+carriages, and then occupied the same position in a pew.  And while the
+Reverend Maurice May spoke with tears in his throat of the departed
+brother, the doctor thought of science, and his cousin of money, and of
+the brother who had not departed.
+
+Mrs Berens uttered a loud, hysterical sob once during the service, for
+she had gone so far as to hope at one time that she might become the
+mistress at the Hall.
+
+This sob came from one part of the church, while a second sob came from
+the Rectory pew, where Leo sat--another who had once thought it possible
+that she might become the lady of the Hall through the deceased; and, as
+she sat there, she recalled certain love passages which had taken place
+between them, prior to Luke Candlish displaying a greater fondness for a
+love of a more spirituous character, when his brother stepped into his
+place, and the fierce quarrels which had been common nearly ceased.
+
+There were spectators in all parts of the church, Dally Watlock being
+the best placed, and out of sight of the congregation.  She sat aloft,
+with her elbows on her knees, and her chin in her hands, watching two
+people--Leo Salis and Sir Thomas Candlish.
+
+The girl's eyes flashed, and displayed her nervous excitement, as, with
+her head perfectly motionless, she watched, with her gaze now in one
+pew, now in the other, ready to trap the first glance.  For to her it
+was no solemn scene, only a worldly battle, in which she had made up her
+little mind to come out victor.
+
+The service proceeded, and Tom Candlish half sat, half knelt in his
+rarely occupied place, close to the grotesque effigy of his ancestors.
+He did not kneel, for he had an antipathy to making the knees of his new
+black trousers dusty; but his mien was quite contrary to established
+custom.  When he did attend Duke's Hampton church, he spent as much as
+possible of his time standing, with his hands resting over the side of
+the pew, staring at every woman in the place.  Now, to Dally's great
+satisfaction, he did not once look about him, but kept his chin upon his
+breast--his way of displaying his grief.
+
+Leo, in her place in the Rectory pew, was as careful of mien, and an
+ordinary watcher would have been content.  But Dally Watlock was not an
+ordinary watcher, and she had settled in her own mind that Tom Candlish
+and Leo would, sooner or later, look at one another, if only for a
+moment, and it was to catch that glance she waited.
+
+Dally was right, and the glance was so keen and quick that she was the
+only one who noticed it.  But there it was, sure enough, just at the
+moment when the rector stepped down from the reading-desk, and there was
+a shuffling noise in the centre aisle, where the undertaker's men were
+busy.  One quick interchange at one moment, as if those two
+instinctively knew that the time had come, and Dally Watlock drew a long
+breath between her set teeth, while her little eyes glittered, and again
+seemed to flash.
+
+Then the church slowly emptied, the churchyard filled, and the people
+formed a half-circle about the mausoleum, whose railing-gates stood
+open, and whose door at the foot of the stone steps gaped, while a faint
+glare came from within, to shine upon an end of the coffin, as the sun
+shone upon the other.
+
+The Reverend Maurice May's pathetic voice rose and sank through the rest
+of the service to the time when the coffin was borne down the steps, and
+there rested once more; and his words sounded even more tearful still as
+he finished, closed the book, and with bent head took four steps into
+the vestry, and sat down and sighed, before removing his gown, bowing to
+his curate as if too much overcome to speak, and returning to his
+carriage, to follow the others to the Hall.
+
+Meanwhile, with a great show of importance, Moredock assisted the
+undertaker's men in the closing of the yawning door of the vault,
+afterwards shutting the iron gates with a strange, echoing clang, and
+turning the key; while North, who seemed wrapped in thought, stood
+watching him.
+
+At that moment Salis came out of the vestry, with his sister, and was
+about to go up to North and speak; but he drew back as Cousin Thompson
+came round the end of the chancel.
+
+"Why, here you are!" exclaimed the latter.  "The carriage is waiting,
+and all the rest are gone."
+
+"Gone?" said the doctor dreamily.  "Gone where?"
+
+"Where?  Why, up to the Hall, of course.  We must hear the will."
+
+"No," said North coldly; "the will does not concern me.  I am not
+coming."
+
+"Not coming?" cried Cousin Thompson.  "Why, the man must be mad."
+
+He hurried along the path, to spring into the carriage waiting at the
+gate, while after a glance round at the knots of people waiting about
+the churchyard, North walked slowly up to old Moredock.
+
+The old man saw him coming, and half turned away as if to speak to his
+grandchild, but North checked him.
+
+"Moredock," he said quietly, "you'll want that medicine to-night."
+
+"No, no, doctor," said the old man uneasily, "no more--no more."
+
+"Yes, you will want some more," said the doctor meaningly; and the old
+man returned his fixed look, and then stood rubbing his withered yellow
+cheek with the key of the vault as the doctor walked away.
+
+"I don't like it," he muttered.  "I don't like it.  Not in my way.  Ah,
+Dally, my lass, going home?"
+
+"I'm going back to the Rectory, if that's what you mean," said the girl
+shortly, as she turned away.
+
+"Ah, there she goes," muttered the old man, "and why not?  She's
+handsome enough.  But the doctor--the doctor, coming down to-night.
+Well, I must do it; I must do it, I suppose, for I can't get on without
+him, and it's too soon to die just yet.  Bit o' money, too--a bit o'
+money.  Man must save up, so as not to go in the workhouse.  Dally, too.
+Fine clothes and feathers, and make a lady of her.  Why not, eh?  How
+do I know he wouldn't poison me next time if I didn't mind what he
+said?"
+
+Volume 2, Chapter III.
+
+FOR A SPECIAL REASON.
+
+Jonadab Moredock sat smoking his pipe on the night of the funeral, after
+Luke Candlish had been laid to his rest.  The old man sat in the dark
+for economical reasons, and whenever he drew hard at his pipe, the glow
+in the bowl faintly lit up his weird old face.
+
+He was communing with himself, for apparently his conscience was
+pricking him with reminders of the past.
+
+"Well," he muttered, "it was only lead, and bits o' zinc did just as
+well.  Sold one of the bells if I could?  Well, so I would, if they
+hadn't been so heavy.  Much mine as anybody else's.  I'm 'bout the
+oldest man in Hampton!"
+
+He smoked on furiously, and shifted about in his chair.
+
+"What was a man to do?  Go to workhouse when he got old?  No, I wouldn't
+do that.  Only a few bones as the doctors wanted, and as would ha'
+rotted in the ground if they'd been left.  Do good, too.  Them as they
+b'longed to's glad they're able to do good with them, I know.
+
+"Wish I'd a drop o' that physic, now.  Seems to stir a man up like, and
+give him strength.  Nasty job, but I'm not skeared!  It was fancy that
+night.  If I'd had a drop o' doctor's stuff I shouldn't ha' seen that
+head going along above the pews.  No, I'm not skeared; but will he see--
+will he see?"
+
+The old man fidgeted about uneasily in his chair, and had to refill and
+relight his pipe.
+
+"Tchah!  What would he know about 'em?  How could he tell?  Nobody but
+me's ever been down there, 'cept at funerals, and them as lives don't
+want 'em; they b'long to the dead.  Dead don't want 'em, so they b'long
+to me.  Ah!"
+
+"Why, Moredock, did I frighten you?"
+
+"Frighten me!  No.  Nothing frightens me; but you shouldn't come so
+sudden like upon a man."
+
+"You shouted as if you had been hurt.  What makes you sit in the dark?"
+
+"'Cause I arn't afraid o' the dark," grumbled the old man.  "Candles is
+candles, and costs money; don't they?  Nobody gives me candles."
+
+"Well, are you ready?"
+
+"Ready?  What for?"
+
+"No nonsense, man.  I'm not to be trifled with."
+
+"Humph!" growled Moredock.  "Brought that physic?"
+
+"Yes, of course."
+
+"Give's a drop, now.  I'm about beat out.  Hard work to-day."
+
+North took a bottle from his pocket and set it on the table.
+
+"Get a light, and you shall take a dose," he said.
+
+"Nay; I want no light.  I can see to do all I want without a light."
+
+Moredock rose, went to a shelf, and took down a cup; the squeaking of
+the cork was followed by the gurgle of some fluid, and then there was a
+sound represented by the word "glug," and the sexton drew a long breath.
+
+"Hah! that puts life in a man," he said.  "Be careful not to take too
+much."
+
+"Ay! don't be skeared, doctor; I know," said the old man.  "One thumb
+deep.  I've measured it times enough.  I didn't leave a light.  Might
+take attention.  Young Joe Chegg gets hanging about.  Thinks he wants my
+Polly, but he won't get her.  Comes peeping in at this window sometimes
+to see if she's here.  Now I'm ready."
+
+"Got everything you want?" said North.  "Keys--lanthorn?"
+
+"Ay!  Got everything I want; but have you got everything you want?"
+
+"Yes, man, yes."
+
+"And look here, doctor; mind this: it's your job, and you're making me
+do it."
+
+"What do you mean, sir?"
+
+"I mean as I arn't going to stand the racket if it's found out.  Spose
+Parson Salis comes down upon me about it?"
+
+"I understand you now," said the doctor sternly; "and I promise to hold
+you free."
+
+"But it _is_ for money, isn't it, doctor?" said Moredock insinuatingly.
+
+"Money!" cried the doctor scornfully.  "Do you think I would do this for
+money?"
+
+The old man made a curious sound in his throat, which might have been
+laughing, but it was impossible to say, and then led the way out of the
+cottage, merely closing the door after them, and going on towards the
+church.
+
+It was a singularly dark night, with not a breath of wind.  Away to
+their left lay the principal part of the village; but not a light was
+visible; and, save for the uneasy barking of a dog at a distance, there
+was not a sound.
+
+"Not like this i' the morning, doctor," whispered Moredock.  "Place was
+like a fair."
+
+"Don't talk," said the doctor sternly; and after emitting a grunt, the
+old sexton trudged steadily on to the lych-gate, which he opened, the
+key clicking a little, and the lock giving a sharp snap.
+
+"Shall I lock it, or leave it?"
+
+"Leave it.  No one will come here."
+
+"Nay, I'll make sure," said the old man; and passing his hand through
+the open woodwork, he locked the gate and withdrew the key.
+
+The two men ascended the steep pathway to the front of the church porch,
+and continued their journey round by the end of the chancel to the
+north, where the great mausoleum and the vestry stood side by side.
+
+As they reached the end of the path where it stopped by the vestry door,
+Moredock paused to listen intently for a few moments.
+
+"All right," he said; "not so much as a cat about;" and stooping down,
+he unlocked the iron gates at the head of the steps and they swung
+softly back.  "Iled 'em well," whispered the sexton, "and the door
+below, too."
+
+"Now look here, my man," whispered North, "you can let me into the tomb,
+and then keep watch for me; or I will open the place myself, and bring
+you back the keys."
+
+"Nay, doctor, I'm not skeared.  I don't like the job, but now you've got
+me to start on it, I'll go on right to the end."
+
+"That's right, Moredock; and you shall not regret it, man.  As I've told
+you, it is for a special scientific reason."
+
+"I don't know nothing 'bout scientific reason, doctor," whispered the
+old man; "but you said it was some'at to do wi' making men live longer."
+
+"Yes, and it is."
+
+"And that you'd stick to me, doctor, and make me live as long as
+Mephooslum if you could."
+
+"Yes, Moredock, I did."
+
+"And you'll stick to that bargain?"
+
+"I will, on my honour as a man."
+
+"Shak' han's on it once again, doctor.  That's enough for me.  I like a
+bit o' money, and I want it bad; but no money shouldn't ha' made me do
+this.  I'm doing of it because it's to make men live longer."
+
+"Yes, my man, it is."
+
+"Then in we goes.  Stop!"
+
+"What now?"
+
+"You won't bring him--Squire Luke--back to life again, will you?
+Because that won't answer my book."
+
+"Silence, man, and keep to your bargain, as I will keep to mine."
+
+Moredock drew a long breath, inserted the key, opened the heavy door of
+the great vault, and it, too, swung easily upon its well-oiled hinges,
+carefully prepared by the sexton for the funeral.
+
+"You won't mind the dark for a minute, doctor?" whispered the old man.
+
+"No," said the doctor, stepping in, followed by the sexton, who
+carefully closed the grim portal, and they stood together in the utter
+darkness in presence of generations of the dead.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter IV.
+
+MARY'S BELL.
+
+It had been a gloomy evening at the Rectory.  Leo had been unusually
+silent, and Salis greatly disturbed by a letter he had received from the
+rector.
+
+That gentleman had only spoken to him just so far as the sad business
+upon which they had been engaged demanded, and had gone back to King's
+Hampton on his way to town, probably to treat his curate there in the
+same way, and had left a voluminous letter, like a sermon, written upon
+the text "Neglect," for Salis to peruse.
+
+He had read the letter and re-read it to his sisters, with the result
+that Leo had sighed, looked sympathetic, and then gone on with her book;
+while Mary had sat back in her easy-chair and listened and advised.
+
+"I don't know what more I could do," said Salis, wrinkling his brow.  "I
+suppose I do neglect the parish entrusted to me by my rector, but it is
+from ignorance.  I want to do what's right."
+
+He looked down in a perplexed way at his sister, who dropped her work
+upon her knee, and extended her hand with a tender smile.
+
+"Come here," she said.  "Kneel down."
+
+Salis obeyed, and glanced at Leo, whose face was hidden by her book,
+before stooping down lower to accept the proffered kiss.
+
+"My dear old brother," whispered Mary, gliding her soft, white arm about
+his neck, "don't talk like that.  Neglect!  My memory is too well stored
+with your deeds to accept that word.  Why, your life here has been one
+long career of self-denial."
+
+"Oh, nonsense!"
+
+"Of deeds of charity, of nights spent by sick-beds, facing death and the
+most infectious diseases.  How much of your stipend do you ever spend
+upon yourself or us?"
+
+"Well, not much, Mary," he said, with his perplexed look deepening.
+"You see, there are so many poor."
+
+"Who would rise up in revolt if you were to leave."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so, dear; but I have been very remiss lately and
+extravagant."
+
+"Hartley!"--reproachfully.
+
+"Well, I have, dear.  I've smoked a great deal--and fished."
+
+"At your medical man's desire; to give you strength; to refresh you for
+your work."
+
+"But these things grow upon one," said Salis dismally.
+
+"Nonsense, dear; you must have some relaxation.  See what a slave you
+are to the parish--and to me."
+
+"Why, that's my relaxation," he said tenderly.  "But really, dear, it
+almost seems as if he wants to drive me to resign."
+
+"Well, Hartley," said Mary sadly, "if it must be so we will go.  Surely
+there are hundreds of parishes where my brother would be welcome."
+
+"But how could I leave my people here?  My dear Mary, I have grown so
+used to Duke's Hampton that I believe it would break my heart to go."
+
+"And mine," said Mary to herself, "if it be not already broken."
+
+"I must answer the letter, I suppose," said Salis dolefully, "and
+promise to amend my ways."
+
+"Is it not bed-time, Hartley?" said Leo, with a yawn.
+
+"Bless my soul, yes," cried the curate, glancing at his watch.  "Time
+does go so when one is talking."
+
+"I'm very tired," said Leo.  "It has been an anxious day."
+
+"I shall be obliged to sit down for an hour and set down the heads of my
+letter, I suppose," said Salis.
+
+"To-night, Hartley?" cried Leo, suddenly displaying great interest in
+her brother's welfare.  "No, no; don't do that.  You seem so fagged."
+
+"Yes, you seem tired out, dear," said Mary.
+
+"Go and have a good night's rest," said Leo, smiling, and rising to kiss
+him.  "Good night, dear.  Good night, Mary.  But you will go to bed,
+Hartley?"
+
+"Well," he said, "if you two order it I suppose I must."
+
+"And we do order it," said Leo playfully; "eh, Mary?"
+
+"Yes, get up early and have a good morning's walk," said Mary, with the
+result that the lamp was extinguished after candles had been lit.  Leo
+went to her room, and Hartley Salis performed his regular task of
+carrying his sister to her door; after which, by the help of a couple of
+crutch-handled sticks, she could manage to get about.
+
+An hour later all was hushed at the Rectory, and another hour passed
+when Hartley Salis had been dreaming uneasily of listening to a lecture
+from the rector about his neglect of the parish, the rector striking
+hard on the principle of the rough who blunders against a person and
+exclaims--
+
+"Where are yer shoving to?"  The lecture had reached an imaginary point
+at which the rector had exclaimed, with his hand on the bell:
+
+"And now we understand one another, Mr Salis.  Good morning."
+
+The bell rang just over the curate's head, and he jumped out of bed and
+hurried on his dressing-gown, for that bell communicated with Mary's
+room, and had been there ever since her illness had assumed so serious a
+form.
+
+"What is it, Mary; are you ill?"
+
+"No, no, dear," came back through the slightly opened door; "but there
+is something wrong."
+
+"Wrong?"
+
+"Yes.  I certainly heard a door open and close downstairs."
+
+Volume 2, Chapter V.
+
+THE SEXTON HAS A GLASS.
+
+The Candlish mausoleum had been built by an architect who had an
+excellent idea of the beauties of the Jacobean style, and he had got
+over the many-windowed difficulty by making those windows blank.  The
+stone mullions, with their tracery, were handsome, and the way in which
+the arms of the Candlish family had been introduced where there was room
+reflected great credit upon him.  In places where the arms would not
+stand there was always room for a crest or a shield, so that the
+chapel-like structure was an improvement to the old church.
+
+But after the exterior had been named, with its grand roof, massive
+door, and finely forged gate and rails, the less said about design the
+better.  Mausoleums were evidently not the architect's strong point; and
+when he came to the interior he was at his worst.
+
+This was to be a partly underground structure, and the architect's ideas
+of underground structures were divided between coal-cellars and cellars
+to hold wine.
+
+Now the former, he felt, would be antiseptic, and a great improvement
+upon the unhealthy contrivance designed by the sculptors of a past
+generation to do honour to the first baronet at the expense of his
+fellow-creatures who have malefited to a horrible extent by the
+proceedings of our forefathers in regard to the disposal of their mortal
+remains; but this architect wisely decided that the coal-cellar idea
+would be repugnant to the builder; so he fell back upon the other.
+
+Consequently for generations the Candlishes had been regularly stowed
+away in so many stone bins, with labels at the ends of the coffins, to
+tell who and what they were.
+
+But the great family did not resemble wine, for they did not improve by
+keeping; and when Moredock struck a match, and lit his lanthorn to hold
+it above his head, there were traces on all sides of the touch of time.
+
+The wine-cellar idea was there, for the floor was deeply covered with
+turpentiny sawdust; cobwebs hung in folds; here and there
+loathsome-looking, slimy fungi had sprung up; mouldering destruction
+everywhere nearly; and Moredock watched the doctor eagerly as he gazed
+round, seeing much, but not that which the sexton wished concealed, for
+if the light of careful inspection had been brought to bear here, sad
+recollections respecting costly handles and plates would have been
+brought to light, while, had the inspection been carried further by the
+modern representatives of the family, the number of uncles and aunts and
+grandparents who were wholly or partially missing, as well as their
+leaden homes, would have been startling, and about all of whom Jonadab
+Moredock could have told a tale.
+
+But the doctor's was only a cursory glance round at the niches
+containing the dead, for he turned at once to the coffin lying upon a
+stone table in the very centre of the vault, which place it would occupy
+till the doors yawned for another of the Candlishes, when the late Sir
+Luke would be stowed somewhere on one side.
+
+It was a weird scene as the doctor set down a small leather bag upon the
+stone table beside the coffin, and produced a lamp with chimney and
+shade.  This lamp when lit cast a yellow glare all over the place, and
+reflections were cast by tarnished plates and gilded nail-heads from the
+more obscure portions of the vault.
+
+The sexton looked on curiously after setting his lanthorn, with open
+door, just inside one of the vacant niches, and his yellow features gave
+him the aspect of some ghastly old demon come hither for the performance
+of hideous rites.
+
+"I've brought some tools, doctor," he whispered, as he took a large
+screw-driver from his pocket.
+
+"I too have come provided," said the doctor, taking sundry implements
+from his black bag.  "Now, Moredock, I want everything to remain here
+night after night, just as I leave it, ready for me when I come again."
+
+"Come again?" growled the sexton.
+
+"What, shan't you finish to-night?"
+
+"Perhaps not this month," was the stern answer.
+
+Moredock stared.  "Why, you--"
+
+"Hush!" said the doctor sternly.  "Now, what are you going to do--stay
+and assist me, or go?  If you have the slightest nervous dread, pray
+leave me at once."
+
+"Nay, I'm not skeared, doctor," said the old man grimly.  "I've seen too
+much o' this sort o' thing.  I was a bit frightened when I saw that head
+going along through the church without the body, but I'm not feared of
+this."
+
+"Stop, then, and help," said the doctor.  "I'll pay you well.  Can you
+use a screw-driver?"
+
+Moredock chuckled and took off his coat, which he hung upon one of the
+ornamental handles of an old coffin foot.  Then rolling up his
+shirt-sleeves over his thin, sinewy arms, he took up a screw-driver--one
+that he had brought--and as deftly as a carpenter began removing the
+screws from the handsome coffin-lid.
+
+As Moredock attacked the head, the doctor busied himself at the foot,
+with the result that in a few minutes the screws were all laid together
+upon the stone ledge at the side of the vault, and the coffin-lid, with
+its engraved breast-plate, setting forth the name, age, and date, was
+lifted up, and stood on end out of the way.
+
+"What will be the best way of opening this?" said the doctor, as he held
+the lamp over the gleaming lead inner coffin, with its diamond pattern
+and silvery-looking solder marks along the sides.  "Had we better melt
+the solder?"
+
+"Melt the sawder?" said Moredock, with a chuckle.  "I'll show you a
+trick worth two of that."
+
+He went to where his coat hung, and took out of one of the pockets a
+short, curved, chisel-looking tool with a keen point and a stout handle.
+
+"There, doctor, that's the jockey for this job.  Want it right open?"
+
+"Yes; I want the lid right off.  Can you manage it?"
+
+"Can I manage it!" chuckled the old man derisively.  "Look!"
+
+Strange thoughts invaded the doctor's breast as to what at different
+times had been the pursuits of the old sexton, as he saw him take the
+singular-looking tool, place its point at the extreme right-hand corner
+of the leaden coffin, place his shoulder against the butt of the handle,
+and press down, when the point penetrated the thin lead at once, right
+over the top of the curved blade.  The rest was simple, for the old man
+only worked the handle up and down close to the side where, acting as a
+lever, the curved steel cut through the metal with the greatest ease, an
+inch slit at a time, so that in a very few minutes the top corner was
+reached.  Then the head was cut across, and the old man paused to go
+back to the foot and cut across there.
+
+"Why didn't you continue cutting round?" said the doctor, speaking in a
+low, subdued tone.
+
+"You let me be, doctor," said Moredock, with an unpleasant laugh.  "If
+it was a leg, I shouldn't say naught, but let you do it.  This is more
+in my way.  Look here."
+
+He finished cutting the lead as he spoke, and then with a grim laugh
+inserted his fingers in the slit, raised it a little, and then going to
+the uncut side, hooked his fingers in again, placed his knee against the
+coffin, and after the exercise of some little force, drew the long leaf
+of lead over towards him, the uncut side acting like the hinges of a
+lid, and laying bare the contents of the ghastly case.
+
+"There," said the old sexton; "that means less trouble when we come to
+shut him up again."
+
+"You seem to know," said the doctor quickly.
+
+"Man in my line picks up a few things, doctor," replied the sexton.
+"But there you are.  What next?"
+
+The doctor took the lamp once more, and held it over the head of the
+coffin, to scan with the deepest interest the head and face revealed.
+
+"Sheared!" said Moredock grimly; "what is there to be skeared on?  Only
+seems to be asleep."
+
+"Yes," said the doctor, gazing down and thoughtfully repeating the
+sexton's words; "seems to be asleep.  Suppose he is?"
+
+The old man stared with his jaw dropping, and his features full of
+wonder.
+
+"Asleep?  Nay, you said he'd broke his neck.  No sleep that, poor chap."
+
+"Hush!" said the doctor.
+
+Moredock looked at him curiously, as he bent lower over the occupant of
+the coffin.
+
+"Rum game for us if he were only asleep," muttered the sexton uneasily.
+"Dally wouldn't like that, and I shouldn't like it.  That wouldn't do."
+
+"Hale, strong--life arrested by that sudden accident," said the doctor,
+as he laid his hand upon the cold forehead.  "It must be possible.  I am
+satisfied now, and I will."
+
+"Did you speak, doctor?" said Moredock.
+
+"No.  Yes," said North, setting down the lamp quickly.  "Here, help me."
+
+Moredock approached, wondering what was to be done next, and with a
+vague idea in his brain that the doctor was about to test whether the
+body before them contained any remains of life before making some
+examination for increasing his anatomical knowledge.
+
+"Now, quick.  Lift."
+
+"We two can't lift that, doctor.  It takes four men.  Why, there was
+eight to bring it down."
+
+"Can we shift it to the edge of this slab?"
+
+"Ay, we might do that."  And lifting first at the head, and then at the
+foot, they moved the coffin to the extreme edge of the stone table,
+leaving a good space on one side.
+
+"Now, then, lift again.  I will take the head; you the feet."
+
+"What! lift him out, doctor?"
+
+"Yes, man, yes.  Don't waste time."
+
+Moredock hesitated for a moment, and drew a long breath.  Then, obeying
+the orders he had received, he helped to lift the body out upon the
+table, where it lay white and strange-looking in the yellow light.
+
+"Now we can easily lift the coffin," said North.  "Over yonder--out of
+the way."
+
+The sexton uttered a low whistle, as he once more obeyed, taking the
+bottom handle of the massive casket, and it was placed on one side close
+to where a generation or two of the passed-away Candlishes lay in their
+bin-like niches.
+
+This done, the old man passed his arm across his damp forehead.
+
+"Mind me having a pipe, doctor?" he said uneasily.  "This is a bit extry
+like.  I didn't know--"
+
+"No, no; you must not smoke here," said the doctor hastily.  "One
+moment--into the middle of the table here."
+
+Moredock obeyed again, and the recumbent figure of the dead squire was
+placed exactly where the coffin had stood.
+
+"That will do," said North.  "Now, Moredock, what do you say to a
+glass?"
+
+"Glass?  Ay, doctor.  Want it badly," cried the old man eagerly, as the
+doctor produced a silver flask, drew the cup from the bottom, and gave
+it to the sexton.
+
+Before doing so, however, North gave the flask a sharp shake, and the
+old man's eyes sparkled as his countenance assumed a suspicious look at
+this movement, so suggestive of medicine.
+
+"I say, what is it?" he said.
+
+"What is it?  Cordial."
+
+"Brandy?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Look here, doctor," said the old sexton hoarsely; "no games."
+
+North paused.
+
+"Shall I tell you what you are thinking, Moredock?" he said.
+
+"Nay, you can't do that, clever as you are," cried the old man with a
+chuckle.
+
+"I can.  You are thinking that I have poison here, ready to give you a
+dose, so that you may die out of the way, and never be able to expose me
+by betraying what you have seen."
+
+The old man's jaw dropped again, and his face grew more wrinkled and
+puckered up, if possible, as he scratched his head with one yellow claw.
+
+"Well, it were some'at o' that kind," he said, with a grim chuckle.
+
+"You old fool!" exclaimed the doctor; "don't I know that you could not
+expose me without exposing yourself?  Do you think me blind?"
+
+"Nay, doctor, nay; you're a sharp one.  You can see too much."
+
+"Have I not seen how dexterous you are at work of this kind?  Do you
+think I cannot read what it all means?  Moredock, I'll be bound to say
+that one way or another you have made yourself a rich man."
+
+"No, no, doctor; no, no!" cried the sexton.  "A few pounds gathered
+together to keep me out of the workus some day when I grow old."
+
+"You think that I want to poison you, then, and to hide your body here?"
+
+"Nay, nay, doctor, I don't.  You haven't got no need, have you?  Give us
+a drop of the stuff."
+
+"Yes, we are wasting time," said North, pouring out a portion of the
+contents of his flask, and handing it to the old man, who took it, and,
+in spite of all said, smelt it suspiciously.
+
+"'Tarn't poison, is it, doctor?" he said piteously.
+
+"Yes, if you took enough of it.  But that drop will not hurt you.
+There, don't be afraid.  Toss it off.  It is a liqueur."
+
+The old man hesitated for a moment, gazing wildly at the doctor, and
+then tossed it off at a draught.
+
+"There!  Do you feel as if you are going to fall down dead, old man, and
+do you wonder which of these old niches I shall put you in?"
+
+"Tchah! don't talk stuff, doctor," said the old fellow, putting his hand
+to his throat; "you wouldn't do such a thing.  That's good!  That's
+prime stuff.  I never tasted nothing like that afore.  It warms you
+like, and makes you feel ready to do anything.  Skeared!  Who's skeared?
+Tchah!  What is there to mind?  I'm ready, doctor.  I'll help you.
+What shall I do next?"
+
+"Sit down on that ledge for a bit till I want you."
+
+"Ay, to be sure," chuckled the old sexton, as he seated himself on a low
+projection at the far end of the vault.  "That's prime stuff.  I could
+drink another drop of that, doctor.  But you go on.  Nobody can't see
+from outside, for I've put lights in here before now, and shut the doors
+of a night, and tried it.  There isn't a crack to show; so you go on."
+
+The doctor watched the weird-looking old man, as he settled himself
+comfortably, with his back in the corner, and went on muttering and
+chuckling.
+
+"Brandy's nothing to it," he went on--"tasted many a good drop in my
+time.  Eh?  What say, doctor?"
+
+"You shall have some more another time."
+
+"Can't see outside.  Sheared?  Tchah!  It wouldn't frighten a child."
+
+The doctor approached him, but the old man took no notice, and went on
+muttering:
+
+"He! he! he!  I could tell you something.  I will some day.  Frighten a
+child.  Old man?  Tchah!  Mean to live--long--Ah!"
+
+The last ejaculation was drawn out into a long sigh, followed by a
+heavy, regular breathing.
+
+North placed his fingers in the sexton's neckcloth to make sure that
+there was no danger of strangulation, and then turned away.
+
+"Good for four or five hours, Master Moredock," he said; and then, with
+his face lighting up strangely--"in the service of science--ambition--
+yes, and for the sake of love.  Shall I succeed?"
+
+He paused for a few minutes, bending over the body on the table.
+
+"It seems very horrible, but it is only the dread of a man about to
+venture into the unknown.  The first doctor who performed a serious
+operation must have felt as I do now, and--What's that?"
+
+He started upright, throwing his head back, and shaking it quickly, as
+if he had suffered from a sudden vertigo.
+
+"Pooh! nothing; a little excitement.  Now for my great discovery, for I
+must--I will succeed."
+
+He stooped down quickly, and took a bottle and a case of instruments
+from his black bag, when once more the curious sensation came over him,
+and he shook his head again.
+
+"The air is close and stifling," he said, as he recovered himself.  "I
+could have fancied that something brushed by my face."
+
+Then, bending over the prostrate figure he rapidly laid bare again, four
+hours quickly passed away in the gloomy vault, where the yellowish rays
+of the shaded lamp shone directly down upon his busy fingers, and the
+stony face of him who lay motionless in his deep sleep.
+
+Four hours, and then he laid his hand upon the old sexton, who started
+up wildly, and extended his claw-like hands, as if about to seize him by
+the throat.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter VI.
+
+THE DOCTOR IS NERVOUS.
+
+"It's all very well, Master North, for you to come here bullying me
+about my health, and ordering me to go fishing, and half ruin myself
+with cigars," said the curate; "but I feel disposed to retort,
+`Physician, heal thyself.'  Why, you're as white as so much dough."
+
+"Nonsense!" cried the doctor hastily.
+
+"Prisoner denies the impeachment," said Salis.  "First witness--Mary
+Salis--what do you say?"
+
+Mary smiled at North, as she said quietly:
+
+"I think Doctor North looks worn and pale."
+
+"There, you hear," cried Salis triumphantly.
+
+"I'm not convinced," said North.  "I shall call a witness on my side.
+Leo, will you speak for me?"
+
+"Certainly I will," said Leo quietly, as she looked up from her
+inevitable book.  "Do I look pale and worn out?"  Leo shook her head.
+
+"No," she said quietly.  "I think you look very well.  Only, perhaps, a
+little more earnest than of old."
+
+"Thank you--thank you," cried the doctor eagerly.
+
+"Why, he looks bad," said Salis; "and it's a horrible piece of imposture
+for him to come here bullying me and wanting to give me abominable
+decoctions, besides leading me into idleness and debauchery, when all
+the time he cannot keep himself right."
+
+"Nonsense!" cried the doctor pettishly.  "I never was better: never more
+busy."
+
+"The fellow's a humbug," said Salis, bringing his hand down on the table
+with a rap.  "I'll tell you what's the matter."
+
+North turned upon him a look so full of mingled entreaty and annoyance
+that he checked himself.
+
+"No," he said, laughing, "I am as bad as Horace North.  I can't tell you
+what's the matter unless it is that he is working too hard over his
+craze."
+
+North looked at him keenly, and his pallor increased.
+
+"Well, I must be off up to the church.  I want to see my friend,
+Moredock."
+
+"To see Moredock?" said the doctor, with a quick, uneasy look at the
+speaker.
+
+"Yes.  I'm not satisfied with the old man's proceedings."
+
+"What has he been doing?" said the doctor, who fidgeted in his seat, and
+seemed anything but himself.
+
+"Oh, I'm going to make no special charges against him," said the curate.
+"Coming my way?"
+
+"N-no, yes," said North, rising, and going to Mary's couch to shake
+hands, her eyes looking up into his with a calm, patient smile full of
+resignation and desire for his happiness, which he could not read.
+
+He turned then to Leo, who was reading, and evidently deeply engrossed
+in her book.
+
+"Going?" she said, letting it fall, and looking up with a placid smile.
+"What lovely weather, is it not?"
+
+North said it was delightful, as he bent impressively over the extended
+hand, and gazed with something of a lover's rapture in the beautiful
+eyes that looked up into his; but there was no returning pressure of the
+hand; the look was merely pleasant and friendly, and, worn out with
+anxiety, sleeplessness, and watching, he could not help feeling a thirst
+for something more, if it were merely sympathy, instead of those calmly
+bland smiles and gently tolerant reception of his advances.
+
+"Why, Horace, old man, I did not hurt you with my banter?" said Salis,
+as they walked up towards the church.
+
+"Hurt me?  No.  I'm a little upset; that's all.  Salis, old fellow, I'm
+not quite happy."
+
+"No?" said the curate inquiringly, as he looked sidewise at his friend's
+wrinkled face.
+
+"I seem to make no progress with Leo."
+
+"Is that so, or is it your fancy?" said the curate guardedly.
+
+"It is so.  She seems to tolerate me.  You notice it."
+
+"I notice that she is very quiet and thoughtful with you, but really
+that is a good sign."
+
+"You would like to see her my wife, Salis?"
+
+"If it were for your happiness and hers, I would gladly see you man and
+wife," said the curate warmly; "but don't be hasty, my dear fellow.  It
+is for life, remember."
+
+"Remember?  Oh, yes, I know all that," said North hastily.
+
+Salis extended his hand, which the other took.
+
+"Don't be offended with me, Horace, old friend.  I wish to see you both
+happy."
+
+"I know it, I know it," said the doctor; and then catching; sight of
+Moredock in the churchyard, he hesitated, half nervous as to what Salis
+might have to say to the old man, but, convinced the next moment that
+his fears were without base, he hurriedly said a few words and went
+away.
+
+"I can't see it," said Salis bitterly.  "They seem so thoroughly
+unsuited the one for the other.  I wish it could have been so, for Leo's
+sake.  Ah, well," he added, as he walked through the old gate, "time
+settles these things better than we can.  Good morning, Moredock."
+
+"Mornin', sir--mornin'."
+
+"Is the vestry open?"
+
+"Yes, sir; door's open, sir.  You can go through the church or round at
+the back.  Through the church is best."
+
+"I prefer going round," said the curate gravely; and he went on round by
+the chancel, followed by the grim old sexton, who watched him furtively,
+and went up quite close, with his big yellow ears twitching, as Salis
+paused by the little path leading to the steps of the Candlish vault.
+
+"What's that?" he said.  "Eh?  What, sir?" said Moredock, hastily
+stepping before him to snatch up a pocket-handkerchief and crumple it in
+his hands.  "Only a bit of white rag, sir.  Blowed there from somebody's
+washing hung out to dry."
+
+"Nonsense!" said the curate sternly.  "Give it to me."
+
+"Doctor's," said Moredock to himself.  "The fool!"
+
+He handed the piece of linen unwillingly, and the curate took it, held
+it out, and turned to the corners, while the sexton's countenance
+lightened up.
+
+"Humph!  `T. Candlish, 24,'" said Salis, reading aloud.  "The new
+baronet is going to favour the church, then, with his presence, I
+suppose," he added sarcastically, as Moredock drew a breath full of
+relief, but shivered again as he saw the curate glance at the mausoleum.
+
+"Noo squire's, is it, sir?"
+
+"Yes, and I beg his pardon," said the curate gravely, as he thought of
+how lately the young man's brother had been laid there to rest.
+"Moredock, ask Mrs Page to carefully wash and iron the handkerchief,
+and then you can send one of the school children over with it to the
+Hall."
+
+"Yes, sir," said the sexton, with a feeling of relief.
+
+"Now come into the vestry.  I want to talk to you."
+
+"Grumbling again--grumbling again," muttered the old man, as he followed
+his superior, to stand before him, humbly waiting for the lecture he
+expected to receive, but with his conscience quite at rest respecting
+the vault.
+
+"Now, Moredock," said Salis, "I have received a letter from Mr May, in
+which he speaks very severely of the state of the churchyard."
+
+"Why, he never said nothing when he were here."
+
+"No; it seems as if he preferred to write, and in addition to
+complaining of the state of the grass, he thinks that the walks are in
+very bad condition."
+
+"Why didn't he say so, then?"
+
+"I tell you he preferred to write."
+
+"How can I help the place looking bad when they sheep as Churchwarden
+Candlish put in was always galloping over the graves!"
+
+"Yes; the sheep do make the place untidy," said the curate, with a sigh.
+
+"And now it'll be just as bad as ever, for Squire Tom sent a fresh lot
+in 'smorning by one of his men."
+
+"But the walks, Moredock--the weeds in the walks.  You know I've
+complained before."
+
+"Well, look how bad my back's been.  How could I weed walks with a back
+as wouldn't bend; and seems to me, parson, as a man as has seen a deal,
+as it 'd be better if you mended your own ways about church 'fore you
+finds fault wi' an old servant like me."
+
+"What do you mean?" said the curate sternly.
+
+"Why, I mean that," said the old man, pointing to the floor with an
+extremely grubby finger.  "I've got it to keep clean, and I do it; but
+you grumbled at me for smoking a pipe one day when I was digging a nasty
+grave.  You said it wer'n't decent to smoke in the churchyard."
+
+"I did, Moredock, and I repeat it."
+
+"And I say as 'tarn't decent to smoke in vestry, and chuck the bits o'
+cigars about.  You're always a-smoking now."
+
+Salis turned crimson as he followed the direction of the pointing
+finger, and saw several traces of white ash and the stump of a cigar.
+
+"Why, Moredock, I--I--"
+
+"There, don't go and deny it, parson.  You've took to smoking bad as any
+one now; and I've allus done my best about church, and it comes hard to
+be found fault on, and if it's coming to this, sooner I goes the better,
+and sooner Mr May finds fault with you the better, too."
+
+The old man walked defiantly out of the vestry, and went toward his
+cottage, while Salis picked up the cigar stump and thrust it into his
+pocket.
+
+"How provoking!" he said.  "Must be growing fearfully absent, and
+dropped it.  I'm sure I did not smoke here when I came yesterday--no, it
+was the day before--to find out about that old baptismal entry.  I must
+have walked in smoking, and thrown the end of the cigar down.  Good
+gracious!  If May had seen me--or anybody else.  It is outrageous.  I'm
+growing quite a slave to the habit, and forgetful of everything I do.
+Tut--tut--tut!  How provoking!  The old man is quite right.  How can I
+reproach him again!"
+
+He walked gloomily back home, meeting Mrs Berens, and so absorbed in
+his thoughts that he passed without looking at her, making the fair
+widow flush and return hastily to her house, to be seized with a
+hysterical fit, which became so bad that North was summoned to
+administer sal volatile, and calm the suffering woman down, as she asked
+herself what had she done that dear Mr Salis should treat her so.
+
+Meanwhile Jonadab Moredock had reached his cottage, raised the big
+wooden latch, and passed in with a sudden bounce, but only to start, as
+he found himself confronted by Dally Watlock.
+
+"Ah, gran'fa!" cried the girl hastily, trying to conceal her confusion
+and something-else; "why, there you are!"
+
+"Yes," said the old man suspiciously; "here I am, and what do you want?"
+
+"Oh! only to say that you mustn't forget what you promised."
+
+"Oh!  I shan't forget," said the old man.  "But you arn't--you arn't
+been meddlin' with anything, have you?" and he looked inquisitively
+round.
+
+"Meddling; oh no, gran'fa, dear!  I've only just come in, and I can't
+stop.  But do help me.  I should like some nice dresses, and you would
+like to see me there."
+
+"What, missus up at the Hall, my lass?  Yes, and you shall be, too.
+There, give's a kiss.  Be a good gel, and you shall have some money and
+fine clothes and feathers; and I'll get a strong lot o' chaps together
+as shall ring the bells for hours the day you're wed."
+
+"Oh, you dear old gran'fa.  He shall marry me, shan't he?"
+
+"Ay, that he shall, my pretty.  Well, if you must go, good-bye."
+
+"Yes, and he shall marry me, my fine madam," muttered Dally, as with
+flushed face and sparkling eyes she turned back to the Rectory.  "Well,
+if it isn't Joe Chegg," she cried in a vexed tone, as she saw the young
+man coming, and turned through a gate into the river meadows, to avoid
+that rustic and get in by the back way.
+
+"You think you can be very clever," continued Dally; "but other people
+can be clever, too.  Let's be sure this is the right one," she added, as
+she drew a big key out of her pocket.
+
+"Yes; that's the one he give me before.  Two can play at that game,
+Miss," she continued, with a vicious look, as she thrust the stolen key
+into her pocket.  "Ha--ha--ha! how foolish I can make her look.
+Jealous?  No, I'm not jealous; for I'm going to win the day as soon as
+I've made quite sure."
+
+Joe Chegg was in pursuit, but Dally took the back way through the
+Rectory orchard, and passed Leo on her way in.  "Been out, Dally?"
+
+"Yes, Miss.  And I'm very busy.  And yes, Miss!" she added, as soon as
+she was alone; "I've got the key in my pocket.  You're very clever; but
+perhaps Dally Watlock can be clever, too."
+
+Volume 2, Chapter VII.
+
+JOE CHEGG FETCHES HIS TOOLS.
+
+"I don't like it, and I mean to find it out," said Joe, scratching his
+head on one side.  "And if I find as there be anything going on twix'
+new squire and she, why I'll--"
+
+Joe Chegg did not say what he would do, but raised the other hand to
+give his head a good scratch on the far side.
+
+He then paused in his work to stand and examine it, his mind wandering
+amid the flowers which hung in wreaths; and these wreaths of brilliant
+hues naturally associated themselves with Dally Watlock, the young lady
+who had made a very deep impression, and was now causing the young man
+great uneasiness of spirit.
+
+Joe Chegg was the universal genius of Duke's Hampton, and was ready to
+turn his hand to anything.  Did a neighbour's saucepan leak, Joe said it
+was a pity to send it over to the town, when maybe he would set it right
+by clumsily melting a dab of solder over the hole.  Did Mrs Berens'
+gate want mending, Joe Chegg would bring up a hammer and nails and
+armour-clothe the woodwork with the amount of iron he attached.  He was
+great upon locks.  As a rule they did not lock much when he had attacked
+them; but Joe generally got the credit of having done them good.
+
+He worked in iron and in lead, but he was more wooden than anything
+else, and delighted in having an opportunity to use a saw.
+
+Nothing, however, pleased him better than being sent for at times to do
+up the Rectory or Mrs Berens' garden, where he would in one day do more
+mischief to flower and vegetable than an ordinary jobbing gardener would
+achieve in three: and if it were the time of year when he had an
+opportunity to prune, why, then the poor trees had a holiday, for they
+had neither flower nor fruit to carry for the next two or three seasons.
+
+On the present occasion, Mrs Berens had found half-a-dozen rolls of
+paper-hanging of one pattern stored away in the attic, and had decided
+to have a small room papered therewith.
+
+Now, being a sensitive lady with but little knowledge of human nature,
+in her ignorance of the fact that the party appealed to would have come
+at once and made a good job of it for Mrs Berens and himself, this lady
+now felt that the King's Hampton painter would not care to come and
+paper her room as she had not purchased the paper of him, so Joe Chegg
+was thought of, and set to work.
+
+It had taken him a long time to begin, for he had to make his own paste.
+Then while the paste was cooling, he had to fetch his scissors, and it
+was while fetching these that he had seen, given chase to, and missed
+Dally Watlock.
+
+He had returned to his work and trimmed the rolls of paper, frowning
+very severely the while.
+
+That took him to dinner-time, with the paper suggesting Dally at every
+turn.  It rustled like Dally's clothes did when she whisked round; the
+selvage he cut off ran up into curls like Dally's hair; it smelt like
+Dally--a peculiarly fresh, soapy odour; it suggested a snug cottage that
+he would paper with his own hands; and then, too, the pattern--how he
+would like to buy Dally a dress like that.
+
+After dinner the paper still suggested Dally so much, as aforesaid, with
+its wreaths and flowers that as Joe Chegg worked away he had slowly
+achieved to the hanging of three pieces, when Mrs Berens, all silk and
+scent and lace, rustled into the room to see how he was getting on.
+
+"Why, Joe," she exclaimed; "you've hung it upside down!"
+
+It was no wonder, for ever since he had seen Dally that morning, Joe
+Chegg had been upside down.
+
+He did not, like Mr Sullivan's immortalised British workman, say,
+"It'll be all right when it's dry," but looked sheepish, and stared hard
+at the paper, to see that the roses were all hanging their heads, and
+the stems pointing straight up.
+
+"Upside down, ma'am?" he said, with a feeble smile.
+
+"Yes, Joe; and you a gardener.  Now, did you ever see flowers grow like
+that?"
+
+"When they've come unnailed, ma'am," said Joe, with a happy thought.
+
+"Nonsense, man!  It looks ridiculous."
+
+"Shall I peel it off, ma'am?"
+
+"No; absurd!  You must paper all over that again.  It's just so much
+waste of paper-hanging.  There, don't stare, man, but go on."
+
+Mrs Berens was rather cross, and she snubbed Joe Chegg in a way that
+brought tears to the young man's eyes, which he concealed by stooping
+over the paste pail, and slopping about the contents so vigorously that
+Mrs Berens, in dread for her garments, hastily beat a retreat.
+
+"It's of no good," said Joe Chegg, "a man can't hang paper properly when
+he's in love; and when he's crossed and crissed and bothered as I am, he
+feels a deal more fit to hang himself.  I'll go and do it!"
+
+This expression of a determination, however, alluded to something in Joe
+Chegg's mind which had nothing whatever to do with what lawyers term in
+legal language _sus per col_.  He had made certain plans in his own
+head, and the cogitating over these had resulted in Mrs Berens'
+paper-hangings being upside down; and for the furtherance of these plans
+he packed up his work for the day, went down into the kitchen, where he
+announced to the maids that he was going to fetch his tools, and then
+started off home.
+
+That night Joe Chegg behaved furtively.  He waited until it was dusk,
+and then went out cautiously as a conspirator, as he thought, but made
+enough noise to put any one upon his guard, while he felt satisfied
+himself that his secrecy and care were surprising.
+
+"She can't deceive me," he said to himself with a satisfied grin, and,
+going along by fence-side and hedge, he placed himself in a position to
+watch, which would not have deceived a child.
+
+The place he chose was opposite the sexton's, where he waited till
+Moredock came out, somewhere about the time when other people went to
+bed.
+
+Joe Chegg hailed this as a sign that the coast would be clear, and Dally
+Watlock soon make her appearance to keep an appointment, for he had good
+reason to believe that she did meet somebody, and it was to have a
+certain proof that he was there.
+
+But the hours wore on, and no Dally made her appearance, and Joe Chegg's
+hands went very far down into his pockets, and his forehead grew deeply
+knit.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter VIII.
+
+WHY DALLY BORROWED THE KEY.
+
+There was a reason for Dally's non-appearance at the sexton's cottage,
+and that reason was that she did not stir out of the Rectory that
+evening, but was exceedingly attentive if the bell was rung, and about
+ten o'clock presented herself at the study door to know if there was
+anything else wanted before she went up to bed, for it was to be a busy
+morning, and she wanted to be up early, etcetera, etcetera.
+
+Mary wanted nothing more, and Leo gave consent, so Dally Watlock went up
+to bed, but did not go.
+
+On the contrary, she bustled about for some little time without
+attempting to undress, spoke to her fellow-servant through the plaster
+wall, and ended by yawning loudly and extinguishing her candle.  Then
+softly opening her window she sat down by it to enjoy the softness and
+beauty of the dark, calm night.
+
+The old Rectory at Duke's Hampton stood back fifty yards from the road,
+with its back to the meadows through which ran the sparkling
+trout-stream.  There was a fine old garden full of bushy evergreens and
+tall, flowering shrubs, so that partly through the efforts of nature,
+partly through the running of the ancient gardener who had planned the
+place ingeniously, it was quite possible for half-a-dozen people to be
+about the place at once without being aware of each other's presence.
+
+The beautiful old ivy-clad place was built in the shape of an L, with
+steep gable-ends; and matters had been so arranged that while Salis and
+poor invalid Mary slept in the front, Leo's pretty bedroom was placed so
+that she could look straight down the green-embowered path right to the
+meadows.  Just below her window was an old rustic summer-house, covered
+with clematis and jasmine; a little more to the right, in the angle of
+the L, was a tiny vinery, and beyond that the lean-to tool-house--made
+an object of beauty by the dense mass of ivy which clustered over the
+thatched roof and walls.
+
+Hence it was that while Leo could look down on the creeper-covered
+summer-house, and across at the ivy-clad tool-house and the
+rose-encircled bedroom window of Dally Watlock, the latter apple-cheeked
+young lady enjoyed the reverse view, with the slight disadvantage that
+when she looked across at Leo's window, she could not see roses, but the
+long, laurel-like leaves of a great magnolia, carefully trained all
+round--a matter not of the smallest importance, for Dally preferred the
+window to its surroundings.
+
+Daily's proceedings were strange that night.  She sat there eager and
+watchful till there was a sudden glow in Leo's window, indicating that
+her young mistress had gone up to bed.  Then as she watched she saw the
+blind drawn aside, and a shadowy hand unfasten the casement, throw it
+open, and put in the iron hook.
+
+Dally drew a long breath full of satisfaction, and then waiting till the
+blind dropped and the shadow of Leo appeared upon it from time to time,
+she proceeded to behave in a remarkably strange manner for a young
+person whose character means her life as a domestic servant.
+
+Dally said softly through her nipped-together teeth:
+
+"I thought as much, ma'am!" and then, with all the activity of a boy of
+fourteen, she tied a dark handkerchief tightly over her head and under
+her chin, stepped from her chair on to the window-sill, lowered herself
+on to the top of the tool-house, where she lay flat down in the bed of
+leaves, to form, had it been light, as prettily rustic-looking an idea
+for an artist of a Dryad in her leafy wreath as he need wish to have.
+
+But Dally Watlock was not going to have a night's rest _al fresco_, for
+she was exceedingly wide awake, and as soon as she was extended at full
+length parallel with her part of the house, and with her feet towards
+that portion where her superiors slept, she began to revolve upon her
+own axis in a very slow and careful manner, down and down the ivy slope
+of the lean--to thatched shed, there being plenty of stout ivy-boughs
+for her to grasp, so as to act as breaks and govern her speed.  Now she
+was on her side, then as she slowly turned, her little red face was
+buried in the dark green leaves.  A little more and it came up, and she
+was on the other side, and soon after upon her back.  And so on and on
+till, merely crushing down the leaves a little, and without breaking a
+twig, she rolled down to the very edge, when, holding on tightly by the
+ivy, she let her legs drop, and touched the earth, making scarcely any
+more noise than a cat.
+
+She remained perfectly motionless for a few minutes, and then crept
+stealthily to the main green walk in the garden, gazed watchfully back
+at Leo's window, where the head and shoulders of her young mistress
+could be plainly seen upon the illuminated blind, and then ran swiftly
+down the grass path to the iron hurdle which separated the garden from
+the meadow, climbed it like a boy and as quickly, and then ran rapidly
+across the meadows in the direction of the church.
+
+Dally Watlock had not gambolled about the old sexton's knees as a child
+for nothing.  She had been with the old man constantly, and been
+furnished by him with strange playthings in her time.  To wit, there was
+a bag of buttons that had afforded her endless amusement, some being
+black, others silvered, while a certain portion were of superior make
+and richly gilt.  Moredock called them buttons, but their shapes were
+peculiar, and looked as if they had been driven into the material to
+which they had been attached, instead of sewn.  There were some
+ornaments, too, of stamped metal which had always been great favourites
+with Dally, from the fact of their containing the plump faces of baby
+boys with curly hair and wings.
+
+Dally had many a time sat perched upon a tombstone and eaten apples
+while "gran'fa" dug graves, and the sight of the old man growing lower
+and lower as he dug, till from being buried to his knees he went down to
+his waist, to his chest, and then quite out of sight, was always full of
+fascination for the child.
+
+As a natural result, the church had been a familiar playground on
+Saturdays, when, as the old man dusted and arranged cushions and
+hassocks, Dally would have scandalised a looker-on, for she played at
+visiting, treating the pews as houses, the aisles of the church as
+streets, and made calls after duly knocking at all the pew doors, the
+knocker being temporary in every case, and formed of a large, old,
+tarnished gilt coffin handle, which she held up with her left chubby
+fingers while she knocked with the right.
+
+Moredock used to grin and enjoy it, petting the child, and humouring her
+in every way.  She would be his companion in the belfry when he tolled
+or chimed the bells, and was even allowed to take a pull at one of the
+ropes, while they had often afforded her opportunities for a swing.
+
+Dally Watlock, then, in earlier life had stolen away from home as often
+as possible, and was as familiar with the church roof, tower, and
+interior, as her grandfather; hence, on the night when she stole out of
+the Rectory and ran across the meadows, she had no difficulty in the way
+of the plan she had designed, which was to reach the old lych-gate, try
+whether it was locked, and, if so, climb it.
+
+It was locked, and she clambered over quickly and silently, took a short
+cut among the graves to the old railed tomb, close to the big buttress
+by the centre south window that had once contained stained glass.  Here
+the smaller casement used for ventilation readily opened at the
+insertion of the blade of a pocket-knife, leaving room for the active
+girl, who had reached it by climbing up and standing upon the tomb
+railings, to pass through and lower herself into the dark interior of
+the church.
+
+Here, standing upon the cushions of one of the primitive old square
+pews, she crouched and listened breathlessly; but all was still, and
+after satisfying herself as far as she could that she was alone, she
+slipped down, passed through the door into the aisle, and then on and
+on, bent almost double, so as to keep below the level of the pew tops,
+where the darkness was intense.
+
+The girl's every movement was as lithe and stealthy as that of some wild
+animal; always on the alert for danger and ready for instant flight; but
+there seemed to be no cause for fear, and she crept on and on till the
+rood-screen was reached, and she passed into the chancel, where she soon
+lay down by the ornamental railings of the Candlish tomb, between it and
+the oak panels of that family's pew, where there was an interval quite
+large enough to hide her compact little frame.
+
+It was not so dark here, for a faint twilight streamed in through the
+great east window; but still the gloom was too deep for any one who
+passed to be recognisable.
+
+Dally listened, and still crouched there, with her heart beating fast
+and her keen eyes roving from place to place as her ears strove to catch
+the faintest sound.  The two grotesque effigies of the Candlishes
+reclined just above her head, the tablets on the walls faintly
+shimmered, and a dark mass--the pulpit--loomed up beyond the
+rood-screen, and all was so still that her breath sounded to her
+laboured, and as if passing through rustling paper.
+
+After carefully scrutinising the place in all directions, she fixed her
+eyes upon the dark patch with pointed top which represented the way into
+the vestry.  It was just opposite to her, and seemed to be the great
+object of her nocturnal journey.
+
+For a few minutes all was still.  Then there was a faint chirruping
+noise which emanated from Dally's lips, as she backed softly a little
+more into her hiding-place.
+
+No response!
+
+She chirruped again, and failing to obtain any reply, she made a quick
+motion with one hand, the result being a sharp rap as if a tiny stone
+had struck the vestry door to make a second sound as it fell upon the
+stone floor.
+
+No response!
+
+"Safe!" whispered Dally to herself, and making a faint rustling sound,
+she glided out from her hiding-place, and crossing the chancel, raised
+the heavy latch of the vestry door.
+
+There was a faint _click_ as she passed in and closed it after her.
+Then another rustling sound, and a peculiar rattling noise, for Dally
+had drawn the large key she had borrowed from the sexton's cottage,
+placed it in the lock of the spiral staircase leading up to the
+rood-loft, opened it, and after withdrawing and inserting the key on the
+inner side, she crept in, locked the door, went rapidly up to the
+opening where she had sat during the funeral service, and then resting
+her arms upon the carved stone tracery, she thrust her head and
+shoulders as far forward as she could, and listened and waited for what
+was to come.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter IX.
+
+WATCHERS.
+
+The old church at Duke's Hampton, a fine old structure, built in the
+latter part of the thirteenth century, stood calm and still upon its
+eminence that dark night.  The older folks at the village said it was
+terribly haunted "arter dark," and the younger believed.  Strange sights
+and sounds were said to have been seen and heard.  Ghostly forms glided
+on silent wing round the tower and swept low amongst the tombs, uttering
+weird shrieks.  Curious mutterings and croaks were heard on high among
+the corbels and demoniacal gargoyles, the holes in the tower among the
+ivy, and low moans often proceeded from the shuttered windows where the
+big bells hung.
+
+All true, for down there in leafy Warwickshire there were plenty of
+owls, daws, starlings, and pigeons to make the old ivy-clothed building
+a bird sanctuary where they were never touched.  They seemed to belong
+to "my church;" to Moredock; and he never took nest or destroyed their
+young.
+
+On the night when Dally Watlock took upon herself to watch, high up in
+the rood-loft, steps approached the church from the back, about half an
+hour later, and a dark figure entered the churchyard, to walk cautiously
+and silently up towards the outer door of the vestry.
+
+As it silently crossed the yard, a head slowly appeared above the wall,
+and watched the tall dark figure for a few minutes, as it seemed to
+glide in and out among the tombstones, and then fade completely away.
+
+The watcher held on by the churchyard wall for a few minutes, rigid and
+paralysed.  There was a faint sound of breathing heard, but it was
+catching and spasmodic, as if the watcher were in pain.  But at last,
+after gazing in the direction where the dark figure had disappeared,
+with starting eyes, and a sensation on the top of the head as if the cap
+there was being softly lifted, the gentleman of inquiring mind tried to
+wrench his hands from where they clutched the top of the wall.
+
+It was a momentary act, resulting in his grasping the coping-stone more
+tightly, and uttering the words:
+
+"Ha' mussy upon us!"  For Joe Chegg felt his legs give way at the knees,
+and that he was bathed in a cold perspiration.
+
+"If I can only get back safe home again," he moaned to himself, "never
+no more--never no more!"
+
+He felt that he had gazed for the first time at one of the peripatetic
+horrors of which he had heard since he was a child, and in which he had
+always religiously believed.  In fact, he would never have ventured to
+the churchyard at midnight had he not been moved by one of the strongest
+passions of our nature.  He had gone there most fully convinced that
+somewhere about he would encounter the gentleman who met Dally Watlock;
+and to emphasise their meeting, he had brought his smallest mallet from
+his tool-basket, as being a handy kind of tool.
+
+But he had not reckoned upon seeing a tall dark figure draped in a long
+black cloak glide silently by him, growing taller and taller as it
+disappeared, leaving him with his tongue cleaving to the roof of his
+mouth, and without the wit to consider that where he stood in the meadow
+he was in the dry ditch, that the churchyard wall formed a kind of haha
+at that spot by the rise of the earth resulting from centuries of
+interments; and that, in addition, there was a steep slope up to the
+church, sufficient to make any one standing by the vestry door ten feet
+above his head.
+
+But Joe Chegg would not have believed these simple physical facts had
+they been explained to him.  He had seen a veritable spirit that might
+mean his own "fetch."  Whether or no, he wanted to go home and keep his
+own counsel, mentally vowing--as he at last wrenched himself away, and
+ran as hard as he could over the dewy grass--that, come what might, he
+would, if he were spared, never run such a risk again.
+
+He was in the act of dragging himself away, thankful that he was on the
+meadow-side of the wall, when a low muttering moan rose upon the night
+air, from the direction in which the monstrous figure had disappeared;
+and that moan acted as a spur to the frightened man.
+
+It was simple enough, as simple as the explanation of other supernatural
+sounds, for as the dark figure stood close to the vestry door for a few
+moments and at last uttered an impatient "tut-tut-tut," there was a
+grumbling, muttering sound from a horizontal stone, and Moredock rose,
+saying in a low voice:
+
+"All right, doctor--all right.  I was half asleep, and didn't hear you
+come."
+
+The next moment they had entered the Candlish vault, and the door was
+closed, Moredock directly after proceeding to strike a match.
+
+"How much longer's this a-going on?" he grumbled.
+
+"Till I have finished," said the doctor sternly; but there was a strange
+intonation of the voice--a peculiar manner--which made the sexton, as he
+struck the light and held it to the candle in his lanthorn, gaze sharply
+at the speaker.
+
+"All right, doctor.  I don't grumble; you'll give me my dose again--
+seems to settle and comfort a man while he's waiting."
+
+"Yes, yes, of course," said North hastily.
+
+"You can rouse me up if I drop off to sleep, doctor.  Couldn't get my
+nap i' the chair 'safternoon, and it makes a man a bit drowsy."
+
+North lit his lamp, which stood ready upon the stone table, and the
+yellow light filled the grim place with its soft glow once more--a
+pleasantly subdued light which displayed the surrounding niches and the
+empty coffin of the late squire, and shone softly upon gilt plate,
+handle, and tarnished nail, but lay in an intense ring of brightness
+upon the table that bore it and the sawdust around.
+
+The customary portion from the flask was poured out, and swallowed by
+the old sexton with a satisfied smack of the lips before he set down the
+glass upon a coffin-lid.
+
+"Ha! that's fine, doctor," he said with a loud laugh, as his countenance
+puckered into a goblin grin.  "Cordial that is.  Goes down into a man's
+toes and the tips of his fingers, and makes his heart beat.  You're a
+clever one, doctor--a clever one, that you are.  Rouse me up if you want
+me.  I may go to sleep again--I may go to sleep."
+
+"Yes, yes, I'll call you," said North, as the old man seated himself
+once more in his corner with head against the wall, while before the
+doctor had settled the shade of his lamp to his satisfaction, a
+stertorous snore came from Moredock's corner, accompanied at intervals
+by a low moaning gasp.
+
+"How easy to produce death!" said North, in a low voice.  "Science gives
+us the power to cause that and sleep, which is its semblance, at our
+will.  Why should it be more difficult to produce life?"
+
+"How many nights is this?" he continued.  "Ten, and I seem no nearer--
+nay, further away, for--ah!" he ejaculated savagely, "there is that
+wretched coward shrinking again."
+
+He shivered and looked hastily round as he drew in his breath hard and
+with a curious catch.
+
+"Good heavens! of what am I afraid?  The first amputator, the first
+explorer into Nature's hidden paths, where she guards her secrets so
+religiously--they only felt the same.  Have I gone so far only to
+hesitate to go further?"
+
+He stood shrinking, with his hand clutching the white cloth spread over
+the table, and his eyes fixed on vacancy.
+
+"Am I--an experienced medical man--to be frightened by a shadow?  I say
+that there is nothing wrong in my researches," he cried passionately, as
+if addressing some one in the corner of the vault.  "It is for the
+benefit of posterity.  My experiments upon this vile body here are
+right.
+
+"And yet I feel as if I cannot go further," he muttered, with the same
+abject shiver attacking him again; "as if I dared not--as if I must
+pause, and I have learned so much.  I dare not!  It is as if the hand of
+one's guardian angel were laid upon my breast, and a voice
+whispered--`Rash man, pause before it is too late!'"
+
+He caught at the nearest object for support, for he was weak with
+excitement, and his face looked ghastly in the gloom, as he stood there
+trembling till he realised what he, the living, had seized to sustain
+him--a coffin handle--and snatched his fingers away with a cry of
+horror, to shrink back and rest against the further side of the vault,
+but only to start away again, for his shoulder was against another
+coffin.
+
+He glanced at Moredock, but the old man was sleeping heavily, and once
+more he looked wildly round the vault.
+
+"I cannot go on," he groaned; "it is too horrible.  There is a terror
+beyond that dark veil which seems to hold me back.  I'll wake him up.
+This night shall end it all, and I'll rest in peace, contented with what
+I know.  I dare go no further."
+
+He drew a long breath, as if relieved, and felt stimulated by his
+thoughts.  It was all so simple to try and leave everything as nearly as
+possible in its old state, generously recompense the old sexton, and
+return to his regular course.  The proceedings of the past would be the
+joint secret of Moredock and himself.
+
+"I've done," he said.  "I'll be satisfied.  It is too horrible to go
+on."
+
+He crossed to the old man, who was now sleeping quite peacefully, and
+had raised his hand to shake him and bid him rise and help, but his hand
+stopped within a few inches of the old sexton's shoulder, and he stepped
+back with an ejaculation full of anger.
+
+"Coward! idiot!" he exclaimed.  "That ignorant old boor sleeps as calmly
+as a child among these grisly relics of mortality, and you, enlightened
+by science, educated, a seeker after wisdom, shrink and shiver and dare
+do no more.
+
+"No," he added, after a pause; "it is too horrible.  There is a
+something holds me back.
+
+"And fame--the praise of men?  And love?  The kisses of Leo?  Her bright
+looks--her pride in the man she will call husband?  Horace North, are
+you going mad?  Pause?  Now?  When there is triumph waiting, and a
+little further research will teach me all I want--maybe give me the
+great success?
+
+"No; not if fifty guardian angels barred my way.  I will win now in
+spite of all."
+
+The coward fit of shrinking had gone, and, with a laugh full of contempt
+for himself, he took a step to the table and snatched the white cloth
+from the great stone slab.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter X.
+
+A FRIENDLY VISIT.
+
+A week had passed since Horace North's straggle with the strange fits of
+repugnance and dread that had assailed him on his researches: six
+nights, during each of which he had battled with the same feelings and
+mastered, and gone on, with Moredock revelling in his opiate-produced
+sleep in the corner.
+
+Night after night the old man slept in that vault for hours, among the
+remains of the Candlishes whom he had robbed, and enjoying a voluptuous
+pleasure in his sleep, which made him the doctor's willing servant,
+whose dread was lest the visits to the mausoleum should come to an end.
+
+But these nightly visits were not without their effects, and these
+intense studies could not be carried on without leaving their traces on
+the man.
+
+Mrs Berens was taken ill, and the doctor was called in.
+
+In her lonely widowed state, with nothing but her money, her dress, her
+mirror, and the visits and gossip of Duke's Hampton to amuse her,
+thirsting the while for the communings of a kindred spirit who would
+tell her she was far too young yet to give up thoughts of love, Mrs
+Berens felt that she must have some relaxation, and she took it in the
+form of fits of illness of the body and ditto ditto of the mind.
+
+For the former she called in Dr North, and told her pains.
+
+For the latter, the Reverend Hartley Salis, to whom she recounted her
+doubts, her sorrows, and her sufferings of mind; and in each case she
+felt better, though she did not take the medicine of the one nor follow
+out the precepts of the other.
+
+It was very wrong, no doubt, but it was very natural; and Mrs Berens,
+not middle-aged, and plump, and pleasing, and anxious to please, was
+very full of human nature.
+
+There was such satisfaction, too, in having her hand held by the doctor.
+So there was, too, when it was grasped at coming, and again at leaving,
+by bluff, manly Parson Salis; but they neither of them proposed, or went
+a step further than to be gently courteous and kind to the loving and
+lovable weak woman, who longed to empty the urn of her affection upon
+either head.
+
+And now poor Mrs Berens was in sad trouble.
+
+"I know it," she sobbed to herself, after a visit from the doctor.
+"Mary Salis will not confess, and Leo always holds one off; but he does
+love Leo, and she is holding him in her wicked chains, like one of those
+terrible witches we read about; and, poor dear man, she is breaking his
+heart.  I've tried so hard to wean him from that dreadful love of a bad,
+base girl, and the more I try the worse he is."
+
+Mrs Berens sobbed till her eyes ached, and she bathed them with
+eau-de-cologne and water.
+
+"How dare I say she is bad and base?" she said half aloud, speaking to
+herself in the glass, as her handsome, large, blue swimming eyes looked
+appealingly at her; "because I know it.  I'm sure of it.  I can always
+feel it.  I'm weak and foolish, but I should love him and cherish him,
+while she is trifling with him--I'm sure--and breaking his heart.
+
+"Oh, poor man, poor man!" she sighed; "how worn out and ill he looks!
+What shall I do?  What shall I do?"
+
+Mrs Berens made up her mind what she would do.  She could not send for
+the curate.  She was not sufficiently ill for that.
+
+"And it would look so."
+
+She could not go and see him, for that would also "look so."  Leo
+detested her, she knew, quite as much as she detested Leo, whom she
+declared to be so horribly young.  But she could go and see poor Mary;
+and after well bathing her eyes, she stripped her little conservatory to
+get a good bunch of flowers for the invalid, and then went across to the
+Rectory.
+
+Leo was out for a ride, to Mrs Berens' great delight.
+
+"Master's in his study over his sermon, ma'am," said Dally Watlock; "but
+Miss Mary's in, ma'am."
+
+"Yes, Dally, it is Miss Mary I want to see," sighed Mrs Berens; and
+then, as much out of genuine kindness as with the idea of making a
+friend at the Rectory: "How pretty, and young, and well you do look,
+Dally!"
+
+"Thank ye, ma'am," said Dally, with a distant bob, but gratified all the
+same.
+
+"Do you know, Dally, I've got a silk dress, a pale red, that would make
+up so nicely for you?  It isn't old, but I shall not wear it any more."
+
+Daily's eyes sparkled at pale red silk.
+
+"It wouldn't fit you," continued the widow, "but you could make it up
+nicely with your clever little fingers;" and she compared her own
+redundant charms with the trim, tight little figure of the maid.
+
+"Thank ye, ma'am.  May I come for it?"
+
+"Yes, Dally, do.  Now show me in to Miss Mary."
+
+Dally ushered in the widow, and then stood in the passage thinking.
+
+"I wouldn't go for it, that I wouldn't, if I was quite sure.  I don't
+want to wear her old dresses.  Nice thing for a lady who's going to have
+a title and live up at the Hall to have to wear somebody else's old silk
+frocks.
+
+"I think I'll go, though," said Dally.  "No, I won't, for it's coming to
+a nice blow up for some one I know, and I'll let 'em all see."
+
+"Ah, my dear," said Mrs Berens, entering the room, flower-bearing, and
+bending down over the invalid with a good deal of gushing sentiment, but
+plenty of genuine affection.
+
+"It's very good of you to come, Mrs Berens," cried Mary, flushing.
+"And the flowers--for me?"
+
+"For you?  Yes," said the widow, plumping down on her knees by Mary's
+couch, and playfully laying the bouquet upon Mary's bosom, and holding
+it there beneath her chin.  "Now it's perfect.  It only wanted your
+sweet rose of a face added to it.  My dear, what an angel's face you
+have!"
+
+"Mrs Berens!" cried Mary, flushing more deeply, half annoyed, half
+amused at her visitor's flattering words; but there was no feeling
+anything but pleasure at the affectionate kiss pressed upon her lips,
+and the tender touches of the two well-gloved hands.
+
+"There, I've come to have a quiet chat with you," said the widow.  "I
+ought to have been in before, but I have been so unwell, my dear;
+obliged to send for Dr North."
+
+"I'm very sorry, Mrs Berens," said Mary, laying her hand in those of
+the widow.
+
+"I knew you would be, dear; and, oh, I have been so poorly."
+
+"But you are better now?" said Mary kindly.
+
+"No, no, my dear.  I'm a poor, weak, unhappy woman, and--oh!  I ought to
+be ashamed of myself, that I ought, to go on like that when there you
+are so ill and yet so patient that one never hears a murmur escape your
+lips."
+
+"I don't think I'm very ill, Mrs Berens."
+
+"Then I do, my dear; and I shall come and see you more often, for you've
+done me no end of good.  It's like a lesson to me, and I'll never
+complain any more."
+
+"That's right," said Mary, smiling.  "Do come oftener; I'm very much
+alone.  We will not talk about our ailments," she added with a smile.
+
+"No, of course not; but I have been very poorly, dear, and I sent for
+Dr North.  Do you take any interest in Dr North?"
+
+Mrs Berens was not subtle enough of intellect to note the change in
+Mary's countenance.  At first there was a faint flush; then a waxen
+pallor; but she mastered her emotion, though her heart beat heavily as
+she said:
+
+"Of course.  He was very good and kind to me all through my illness."
+
+"Yes, poor man--poor, dear man!" sighed the widow.  "And of course Mr
+Salis likes him very much?"
+
+"Yes; they are very warm friends," said Mary quietly.
+
+"Then do--do pray talk to your brother," cried Mrs Berens, with
+pathetic eagerness.
+
+"No, no, Mrs Berens," said a bluff, deep voice.  "I'm always with my
+sisters, and they talk to me too much."
+
+"Oh, Mr Salis!  You shouldn't, you know," cried the widow, all of a
+flutter.  "You shouldn't come in so suddenly."
+
+"Why, I only came in to say `how do?'" replied Salis pleasantly, as he
+shook hands.  "There, sit down again, and tell me what I am to be talked
+to about."
+
+"Oh, really, Mr Salis, I--I--I was only going to say, pray talk to or
+see to poor Dr North.  I'm afraid he's very far from well."
+
+"So am I," cried Salis.  "I have just been telling him so."
+
+"He--he has been here, then--just now?"
+
+"Not exactly just now; I mean this morning.  You noticed, then, that he
+seemed ill and over-excited?"
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Mrs Berens, as Mary tried to lie back perfectly calm,
+but with her eyes glancing rapidly from one to the other, and her
+trembling fingers telling the agitation from which she suffered.  "I was
+so poorly that I sent for him, and he quite startled me: his manner was
+so strange and abrupt.  I'm sure he's being worried over something."
+
+"Studies too hard," said Salis quietly.  "He will do it, and advice is
+of no avail.  Mrs Milt tells me that he sits up at night.  Doctors are
+like clergymen, I'm afraid, Mrs Berens: they are fond of teaching and
+curing other people, but they neglect themselves."
+
+"There, I hope you will give him a good talking to, Mr Salis," said the
+widow, rising to go; "for I should really not like to ask him to see me
+again until he is better.  He seemed to be so wild and eccentric: he
+quite startled me."
+
+"Just for the sake of saying something, Mary," said the curate as soon
+as they were alone; and, in answer to Mary's inquiring eyes, "Horace has
+made up his mind to distinguish himself for Leo's sake, and, heigho! my
+dear, things seem to be very awkward, and I don't know how to set them
+right."
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XI.
+
+AN INTERRUPTION.
+
+Other people, too, noticed the doctor's strangely intent manner, as he
+went hurriedly about among his patients every morning, and then returned
+to his study to pore over sundry manuscript notes and refer to certain
+books.
+
+Mrs Milt had to almost insist upon his taking his meals, for on two
+occasions his dinner had gone out untasted, and she had found him
+sitting, with his head resting upon his hands, deep in thought.
+
+He started upon being spoken to, and seemed once more himself; but as
+soon as he was alone again, he relapsed into another fit of abstraction.
+
+A few more days passed, and his task was telling upon him terribly; but
+he persevered, for each night he felt that he was getting nearer to
+success.
+
+"I shall succeed," he said to himself, with a wild excitability of
+manner that was startling; but he was alone when he said these words,
+and no one heard them.
+
+"Arn't it a very long experiment, doctor?" said Moredock, one night,
+looking at the doctor seriously, and rubbing his cheek slowly.
+
+"Yes.  It is taking me longer than I thought, but I shall soon finish
+now."
+
+"Glad o' that," said the old man drily; "because a pitcher as goes too
+often to the well, doctor, gets broke at last."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Naught, only we might be found out."
+
+"Nonsense!" said the doctor uneasily.  "Nobody is likely to be about
+except any person should be ill, and I know exactly who is likely to
+want the doctor by night."
+
+"Ah, well, let's be careful, doctor, for it would be awkward for both if
+we was to be found out."
+
+"Pish!  Who would find us out, man?"
+
+"Well, say parson."
+
+"Absurd!  He is in bed, and sound asleep.  There, take your glass; I
+want to begin."
+
+"Nay," said the old man, looking at the rich liqueur North poured out
+for him, "I don't think I'll have no drop to-night."
+
+"Nonsense, man!" said North, holding out the glass, at which the old man
+gazed longingly.  But he shook his head and thrust it away.
+
+"Nay, doctor; I'm going to keep watch to-night."
+
+"Keep watch, man?" said North, who seemed staggered at this
+determination.
+
+"Yes, doctor, I'm going to keep watch.  I can't afford to have aught go
+wrong, if you can.  You get on with your work, and I'll be on the
+look-out."
+
+"Here?"
+
+"Nay, nay.  I'll hang about outside."
+
+"Yes, do," said North, who seemed relieved; and he turned down the lamp
+to let Moredock out.
+
+"I shall give three taps on the door, doctor, when I come back,"
+whispered the old man.  "You go on just as if I was here; but when I
+tap, you turn down the light again, and let me in.  Don't s'pose I shall
+see anybody, but I must take care."
+
+"Yes, do," said North hurriedly; and, as the old man passed out, he
+closed the door after him and made it fast.
+
+"It would have been like checking my experiment now I am so near
+success," he said to himself, as, now quite alone, he once more turned
+up the shaded lamp, when the warm yellow glow shone out full upon the
+recumbent figure, carefully draped with the great white sheet.
+
+Horace North stood bending over the subject of his ghastly experiment,
+the remains of Luke Candlish lying apparently unchanged, and as if decay
+had been completely arrested.
+
+There was a strange odour of chemicals in the place, and, as the doctor
+removed the cloth, it was to uncover, just as they had been left on the
+previous night, a powerful galvanic battery, syringes, and other
+surgical paraphernalia.
+
+For the next hour the doctor continued his labours, feeling more and
+more assured that he should triumph; and, as he toiled on, he talked
+rapidly to himself of the apparently complete arrest of decay, and the
+perfectly calm manner in which his subject lay, as it were, placidly
+waiting for the awakening which North felt, in his excitement,
+absolutely sure would come.
+
+"It is so near now that I have but to vitalise and obtain positive proof
+that, when carried to its full extent, I have performed what is almost a
+miracle, and proved that what I worked out in theory is possible in
+practice."
+
+He stood gazing down at the calm, cold face, with its closed eyes,
+hesitating, not from the horror that had half paralysed him before, but
+from dread lest, now he had gone so far that he could apply his final
+test, he should be disappointed.
+
+His head burned, his pulses throbbed heavily, and his hesitation
+increased.
+
+Rousing himself at last, he laid his hand upon the icy-cold forehead
+before him, the contact sending a chill through his frame; but he did
+not notice it.
+
+"Why do I stop?" he said.  "It only wants this.  I am alone, and no
+better opportunity could come.  Oh, if I had but the aiding hand of that
+old _savant_, how easy it would be!"
+
+This brought back the scene in the theatre--the lecture, the applause;
+and his heart beat more rapidly in anticipation of his grand triumph
+when he could demonstrate this, the greatest surgical feat that had ever
+been performed.
+
+"And yet I hesitate," he exclaimed excitedly; "hesitate when I have but
+to plunge boldly to succeed."
+
+"And I will," he said firmly, after a pause.
+
+The scene which followed was weird and horrible, had there been an
+onlooker; to North it had all the fascination of an intense scientific
+experiment.  For he had arrived at the pitch when, according to his
+theory, he had but to make the warm living blood pass from his own
+veins, as in a case of transfusion, to prove that his studies bore the
+fruit of success.
+
+The preliminaries were all arranged, and, with a sigh of satisfaction,
+North took a bright, keen lancet from its case, but only to let it fall
+back, starting violently, for he was, as it were, snatched back from his
+scientific dream by a faint rap upon the door of the great vault, and
+this was followed directly after by two more.
+
+North rapidly replaced the great sheet, and turned down the light before
+going softly to the entry.
+
+"Well?" he said harshly; "returned?"
+
+"Hist!" whispered the old sexton.  "Out here!"
+
+He caught the doctor's hand and drew him out from the entry of the vault
+to stand within the iron railings.
+
+"Why have--"
+
+"Hist!" whispered the old man again.  "Come with me."
+
+North hesitated again, but yielded to his companion and followed him
+softly right round the church to the belfry door, which yielded to the
+old man's touch.
+
+"What does this mean?" said the doctor angrily.  "Why have you brought
+me here?"
+
+"Come and see," whispered the old man so earnestly that North hesitated
+no longer, but followed him wonderingly into the church, and along the
+matting-covered aisle, to the old oak screen, where Moredock paused and
+caught his arm.
+
+"Some one watching?" whispered North, as they stood together in the
+darkness; "in yonder?"
+
+For the old man had indicated the vestry door with his outstretched
+hand.
+
+It seemed strange, for a minute before they had been beside the outer
+door of the vestry, and now he had been brought in to stand by the inner
+door in the chancel.
+
+"You're wanted there," whispered Moredock--"yonder!"
+
+"Watchers?"
+
+"You're wanted there, doctor," whispered the old man.  "Go in and see."
+
+The silence was painful in the extreme, as North stood wondering there,
+but the next moment, feeling attracted by he knew not what desire to see
+who was within there face to face, he took a couple of steps forward to
+the old oak door, when a faint whispering seemed to come from the other
+side, followed by a low cough, which sent the blood surging to his
+brain.
+
+There was no hesitation now, for, half-mad with excitement and the
+strange passion that seemed for the moment to stifle him, he seized the
+great latch, which snapped loudly as he threw it up, and strode into the
+little stone-walled room.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XII.
+
+DALLY'S APPEAL.
+
+"Nay! nay! nay!  I know what you want.  There, give me my pipe," said
+Moredock, settling himself down in his big-armed Windsor chair.
+
+"Yes, gran'fa, dear," cried Dally, bustling about and fetching the clay
+pipe with a clean white bowl, consequent upon its having been thoroughly
+burned in the fire before it was stood up in the corner on the hob.
+"There's your pipe, dear, and there's your tobacco box.  Oh, how heavy
+it is!"
+
+"It arn't heavy with 'bacco, lass.  Should ha' thought a girl as I've
+brought up, as I've brought up you ever since your mother and father
+died, would have give her poor old gaffer a pinch o' 'bacco now and
+agen."
+
+"And so I will, gran'fa, dear," cried Dally, taking the lid off the
+heavy leaden pot.  "Next time I go into town I'll bring you a beautiful
+packet of the best.  Let me fill your pipe, dear, same as I used to."
+
+"Ay, you was a good little gel then," said Moredock, as he watched the
+brown, plump fingers busily charging the bowl, while a grim smile
+puckered his face, and he lay back with a satisfied air.
+
+"So I am now, gran'fa, dear."
+
+"Nay; you've come to bother your poor old gran'fa about money for silk
+dresses, and feathers, and gloves.  I know."
+
+"No, you don't, gran'fa, dear," cried Dally.  "There, now it's nice and
+full."
+
+"You've jammed it in too tight."
+
+"No, I haven't, gran'fa.  I know exactly how you like it.  There! hold
+still while I fetch you a light.  There! there, then.  Now pull.  Don't
+you remember how you used to puff the smoke in my face and make me
+cough?"
+
+"Ay; and I 'member how you tried to smoke my pipe, and how sick it made
+you."
+
+"Yes, I remember," said Dally, clapping her hands.  "Ah! how happy I
+used to be then with you, gran'fa!  Do you remember how you used to take
+me to the church?"
+
+"Ay," grunted the old man, puffing away, with a dreamy look in his face.
+
+"And how you used to pretend to bury yourself in the graves when you
+were digging, so as to frighten me?"
+
+"Ah!" grunted Moredock.
+
+"Then there was that old skull, gran'fa, that I had to play with.  What
+became of that skull?"
+
+"Up in the cupboard in your old bedroom," grunted Moredock.
+
+"How happy I used to be then!" sighed Dally, stroking a thin wisp off
+her grandfather's hideous old forehead.
+
+"Ah, you was a good little gel then, and thought about your poor old
+gran'fa, and didn't come bothering him for money."
+
+"Yes, I did, gran'fa--for sweeties," said Dally.
+
+"Ay; but I wouldn't give you none, gel."
+
+"Yes, you did sometimes, gran'fa; and so you would now to buy some nice
+things--a pretty bonnet--if I asked you."
+
+"Nay, I wouldn't.  And I knew it.  You've come a-purpose to worry me out
+of some money."
+
+"No, I haven't, gran'fa."
+
+"Ay, but you have.  I know.  Look here, how's that going on?  If it's
+going to be my leddy, you shall have as much as you want; but not
+without.  Is he courting of you?"
+
+"No, gran'fa."
+
+"Whaaart?"
+
+"Only sometimes, gran'fa; and that's what made me come to you."
+
+"You--you haven't come for the brass?"
+
+"No, gran'fa, I want you to help me, for I'm such a miserable little
+girl."
+
+"What about?--what about?" cried the old man, smoking furiously, and
+staring with a peculiarly angry look at the girl.
+
+"I wanted to tell you, gran'fa," cried Dally, plumping herself down at
+the old man's feet, and laying her rosy cheek upon his corduroy-covered
+knee, stained with the clay from many a grave.  "It's all such a
+muddle."
+
+"What is?--what is?"
+
+"Why, everything," cried Dally, with a petulant twitch; "but he's not
+going to play with me.  He's told me many a time that he'd marry me, and
+make me Lady Candlish; and he shall, shan't he, gran'fa?"
+
+"Ay, that he shall," cried the old man, patting Dally's curly head.
+"That's sperrit, that is.  You keep him to it.  But what's all a
+muddle?"
+
+"Why, everything, gran'fa," cried Dally, bursting into tears, and
+speaking in an excited, passionate way.  "But he shall marry me; and
+you'll help me make him, won't you, gran'fa?"
+
+"Ay, that I will, my pretty.  That's the way.  Don't you be beat."
+
+"I won't; and I won't have him come courting Leo Salis."
+
+"Nay, you won't," said the old man, smoking away as he patted the fierce
+little creature's head.
+
+"He said it was all nonsense, and I believed him because he was so fond
+of me; but he courts her, too."
+
+"Nay, does he, Dally?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa; and he shan't.  He shall marry me.  If he don't, I'll
+kill him!"
+
+"So you shall, my pretty," chuckled the old man; "and I'll bury him.
+And then the doctor--"
+
+He checked himself and chuckled again.  "What's the use of the doctor
+when he's dead?" cried Dally pettishly, as she tugged angrily at a fold
+of the old man's trousers.  "And Doctor North's a fool!"
+
+"Nay! nay! nay!  Doctor's a very clever man, Dally."
+
+"He isn't; he's a fool, gran'fa!"
+
+"Tut, tut!  Shoo, shoo!"
+
+"I say he is, or he wouldn't be courting and making love to Miss Leo."
+
+"Do he, Dally?--do he?"
+
+"Why, yes, gran'fa, of course he does and she's carrying on all the time
+with Tom.  Oh, how I do hate her!  Wish he'd let her die!"
+
+"Ay, would ha' been a good job for everybody--and for me, Dally.  But
+doctor don't know?"
+
+"Know?  Of course not.  He's too stupid.  He's a fool!"
+
+"Nay, he's not a fool," said the old man, smoking rapidly.  "Doctor's
+head's screwed on right way.  He don't know, or--"
+
+"Or what, gran'fa--or what?"
+
+"He! he! he!" chuckled the old man, as Dally screwed herself round and
+gazed eagerly in his face.  "Here, gently, gently!  Don't stick your
+little claws into my legs like that, pussy."
+
+"But what, gran'fa, what?--what would the doctor do?"
+
+"Give him a nasty dose, I should say, Dally," chuckled the old man.
+"Doctor don't know--he arn't no fool.  Does Miss Leo know young squire
+courts you?"
+
+"I don't know," cried Dally thoughtfully.
+
+"She be a bad 'un," grunted the old man.
+
+"She's a wretch, and I hate her!  Oh, I wish master was the doctor
+instead of the parson!"
+
+"Why, Dally, my lass?" said the old man, whose lips were drawn open to a
+terrible extension--a savage grin--as if he gloried in the display of
+fierce vindictive spite which the girl displayed.
+
+"I'd get something out of the surgery and poison her!"
+
+"Nay, nay, Dally, that wouldn't do," he chuckled.  "They'd find you out
+and hang you."
+
+"I wouldn't care if I killed her first," said Dally fiercely.  "She
+shouldn't have him."
+
+"What--the doctor?"
+
+"No.  Don't be so stupid.  You know--Tom."
+
+"Ah, well, wait a bit.  Dessay the things 'll come right.  Wait till
+doctor finds it out; he'll half kill Tom Candlish, same as Parson Salis
+did when squire was after Miss Leo."
+
+"Did he?  Oh, I know!  It was when master's knuckles was all cut."
+
+"That's right, Dally.  I was in the wood and see it all, but I never
+said a word till now.  And don't you.  I thought it was all over between
+young Tom and pretty Miss up at the Rect'ry."
+
+"But it isn't all over, gran'fa, and I won't have it.  They shan't meet.
+I'll tear her eyes out first.  Nice one she is to lecture me!"
+
+"You wait till doctor finds it out, if he's courting Leo Salis.  He'll
+half kill Tom Candlish."
+
+"But I don't want him half killed," cried Dally.  "Yes I do; it'll bring
+him to his senses, and when he's ill I can go and give him a bit of my
+mind."
+
+"Ah, to be sure; so you can, my pretty."
+
+"I'll let him know.  He shall marry me, that he shall."
+
+"Ay, so he shall, Dally."
+
+"And you'll help me, gran'fa?"
+
+"Of course I will, my pretty."
+
+"Then I'll tell you what I came to say."
+
+"Wasn't it for money, then?"
+
+"Money?  No.  A girl with a face like mine don't want money, and I shall
+have plenty when I'm up at the Hall."
+
+"Toe be sure, Dally.  Toe be sure.  Ay, but you are a clever gel!"
+
+"Then, look here, gran'fa, you'll help me to make doctor give Tom
+Candlish a big thrashing."
+
+"Ay, if I can.  I should like it.  He threatened me wi' his whip t'other
+day 'cause I said the sheep mustn't come in th' churchyard.  Parson May
+found fault, and Squire ca'd me an old mummy, and said he'd put in pigs
+if he liked.  I'd like to see doctor mummying him, same as he does his
+brother--eh; help you, lass?"
+
+"Yes; but it wasn't the doctor, it was master made a mummy of Squire
+Tom.  You're mixing 'em up."
+
+"Ay, I s'pose I am, Dally; but I'm not very old yet."
+
+"Then you'll help me, gran'fa?"
+
+"Will it help you to get to be my lady at the Hall?" said the old man
+dubiously.  "Of course, gran'fa, or I wouldn't do it," said the girl,
+who had wrenched herself round, kneeling at the old man's feet, and
+resting her elbows on his knees, her little dimpled chin upon her hands.
+
+"What do you want me to do, then?"
+
+"I want you to help me serve them out."
+
+"Ay, and how?"
+
+"I want doctor to find out that Leo Salis is a down bad one."
+
+"Ay, she is, my lass; and not good enough for him."
+
+"And I want the doctor to beat Tom Candlish and stop him from going
+after Leo Salis, and then he'd come altogether to me."
+
+"Ay, that's right, Dally; that's right.  I want to see thee my leddy up
+at the Hall."
+
+"Then, look here: you take the doctor some night, and show him when
+Leo--ugh! how I hate the minx!--is along with my Tom."
+
+"Ay, but how, lass, how?"
+
+"I'll tell you, gran'fa," whispered Dally vindictively.  "Master ordered
+Squire Tom never to come to the Rectory again."
+
+"Ay."
+
+"So he gave me notes to take to Miss Leo."
+
+"And you was fool enough to take 'em?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa; but that's how it began with me, and he soon told me he
+didn't care for her, and that he only wrote to Leo so as to make her
+send me out with notes to him, so that we could court."
+
+"Oh!  He's a nice 'un," growled Moredock.  "He allus was.  Well?"
+
+"And now Tom's fooling me and meets Leo, and they court, and I dare say
+they laugh at me," cried Dally vindictively.
+
+"I dessay; but you'll make him marry you, Dally."
+
+"I will, gran'fa.  Now listen: because Tom can't come to the Rectory,
+and Leo can't go to him because master watches her, they meet of a
+night."
+
+"Nay.  Tchah!"
+
+"They do, gran'fa."
+
+"What?  Does he come to the Rect'ry o' nights?"
+
+"No.  She waits till every one's asleep, and then she goes to him."
+
+"Nay, do she, lass?" cried the old man.  "Yes, gran'fa.  She gets out of
+her bedroom window, and down on to the summer-house, and then goes."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Because I've seen her out of my window, gran'fa, night after night: and
+then she runs down the green path to the meadows, and--"
+
+"Meets him there?"
+
+"No," said Dally, shaking her head.
+
+"Where does she go, then?"
+
+"Can't you guess, gran'fa?"
+
+"Nay.  Yes.  Up to the Hall."
+
+"Where the servants would find it out?  No; they're too cunning for
+that."
+
+"Where then?" cried the old man, chuckling, and evidently enjoying it
+all.
+
+"Why, to a place where nobody would go of a night--where it would all be
+quiet and still, and people would be afraid to walk for fear of seeing
+ghosts.  Where would that be, gran'fa?"
+
+Old Moredock's jaw dropped, and he gazed down at his grandchild in a
+startled way.
+
+"Not to the old morslem?" he whispered, in an awe-stricken tone.
+
+"Pooh!  No; but next door to it."
+
+"Not to my church, gel?"
+
+"Not quite, gran'fa; but to the vestry."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa," whispered Dally excitedly.  "Leo Salis gets out of the
+window and goes straight to the vestry, and meets Tom Candlish there
+night after night."
+
+"And she gets parson's keys, and goes in at the south door, and through
+the porch, and 'long the south aisle, and then across to the chancel?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa, with a great veil all over her head; but how did you
+know?"
+
+"Why, you're telling me, arn't you?" said the old man testily, as he
+recalled the draped head he had seen hastily gliding above the pews.
+"And Squire Tom?"
+
+"He goes across the meadows and over the churchyard wall, and in at the
+vestry door by the big vault."
+
+"Does he, though?" said Moredock, with his jaw dropped still more; "and
+how does he get the keys?--of course, he's churchwarden!  Hah! nice game
+in my church!  Tchah!" he cried, after a pause.  "Stuff!  You dreamt
+it."
+
+"Oh, no, I didn't," said Dally.  "I watched her, and saw her go.  And
+another night I watched and followed, and I saw a man go up to the
+Candlish vault."
+
+"Eh!  You saw that?" cried the old man, catching the girl's arm.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Who was it, eh?  Not me?"
+
+"You?  No, gran'fa!"
+
+"Nor the doctor?"
+
+"The doctor?  No!  It was my Tom Candlish!"
+
+"Are you sure, gel?"
+
+"I am now, gran'fa; I wasn't then.  I half thought it was the doctor,
+and I did hope it was him.  It was so dark, I couldn't quite be sure;
+and he stopped by the gate in the iron railings and looked about so that
+I daren't go and make sure."
+
+"Phew!" whistled the old man, dropping his pipe and wiping his brow as
+the fragile stem broke into atoms.  "And you there, Dally, watching?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa; for I was, oh, so jealous!"
+
+"And you're not sure now?"
+
+"Yes I am, gran'fa; for I made sure."
+
+"You went again--in the middle of the night?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa.  I got out of my bedroom window next time and went
+first."
+
+"And you saw them go.  Did you see--?"
+
+The old man stopped short.
+
+"No, I didn't see much, gran'fa; but I heard.  I went into the church."
+
+"How did you get in?"
+
+"Through one of the lead windows, as I've often climbed through when I
+was a little girl; and then went into the vestry and up the screw
+stairs, and into the little place in the loft."
+
+"How did you get the key?"
+
+"How did I get the key?  Why, I came and took it from here."
+
+"You jade."
+
+"And you came and caught me."
+
+"Did you take anything else?"
+
+"No, gran'fa, of course not," cried the girl.  "I was obliged to do it.
+Then I waited till I could just see Leo Salis come in along the church,
+and she passed under me and went into the vestry."
+
+"Sure?"
+
+"Sure?  Of course I am; and then I stole down the screw stairs and
+waited by the door till I heard him come in from the churchyard."
+
+"And me about there in the morslem all the time!" muttered Moredock.
+"Well," he added aloud, "was it young Squire Tom?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa; it was him, safe enough, and it was Leo Salis, and she
+scolded him for being so late, and they stopped together for ever so
+long; him smoking."
+
+"Smoking?"
+
+"Yes; I heard him strike a match, and I could smell it--a wretch!"
+
+"And I thought it was the parson," said Moredock, chuckling.
+
+"They stayed there two hours, gran'fa; and they go regular, and I had to
+wait till they'd gone before I could go back."
+
+"And weren't you afraid, Dally?" said the old man with a grin.
+
+"'Fraid!  What of?" said the girl.  "I wasn't afraid, but I felt as if I
+could have killed them both."
+
+"Ay, you must, my pretty.  And now what do you mean me to do?"
+
+"Do?  Take the doctor there, and let him find Leo out, and beat Tom.
+It'll stop it all, and serve him right.  You will, won't you, gran'fa?"
+
+"Ay, lass, I will."
+
+"You good old, darling old gran'fa; and--look--look!"
+
+The old man's eyes caught sight of a face at the lattice window at the
+same moment; and almost before she had spoken, Moredock had caught up
+the heavy leaden tobacco jar, and hurled it with so good an aim that it
+went out through the diamond panes with a loud crash.
+
+Daily stood in the fire-lit room half paralysed; but the old man had
+hobbled to the door, and gazed out in the darkness for a few moments,
+listening to the sound of retreating feet.
+
+"Who was it, gran'fa?" whispered Dally.
+
+"Well, I arn't quite sure," said the old man with asperity; "but I
+should say it was that Joe Chegg."
+
+"And he heard all I said?"
+
+"Nay, I shouldn't think he did; but I just give him warning if he comes
+spying and listening about my place, he'll get it with the maddick or
+the spade."
+
+"I don't think he came to spy, gran'fa."
+
+"Then it was after you, and I won't have it."
+
+"Never mind him, gran'fa," said Dally, with quiet confidence; "even if
+he did hear, I can silence him."
+
+"No courtin', for I won't have it."
+
+"Courting with him!" cried Dally scornfully.  "Don't be afraid that I
+shall do that, gran'fa!  But you'll tell doctor?"
+
+"Don't you be afraid, my gel."
+
+"And when?"
+
+"First chance I have," said the old man grimly; and then to himself: "He
+shan't call me a mummy for naught."
+
+"Good night, gran'fa."
+
+"Good night, my leddy," cried the old man, chuckling.  "Don't you be
+skeered.  I'll do it, and p'r'aps to-night."
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XIII.
+
+MOREDOCK KEEPS HIS WORD.
+
+Old Moredock kept his word, for after leaving North alone to carry out
+his experiment, he went round the old church, proceeding cautiously from
+tombstone to tombstone, his red, watery eyes twinkling with excitement,
+till he reached the belfry door.
+
+This yielded to the key he always carried, deep down in his old coat
+pocket, and passing through into the lower part of the tower, he
+continued his way by the low, arched doorway to the font.
+
+Here he paused and listened, but all was perfectly still, and, running
+his hand along the tops of the pews, he went slowly on till he reached
+the screen, where he hesitated for a few moments, and then littering a
+low chuckle, that sounded like that of a cuckoo over a caterpillar
+feast, he turned aside, mounted the stairs, and seated himself in the
+pulpit, where he made himself comfortable with the big purple velvet
+cushion, and waited patiently for what was to come.
+
+He had not to wait long, for as he sat, with his arms resting on the
+front of the oaken erection, his ears twitching, a familiar sound in the
+church porch warned him that some one was at hand.
+
+Drawing in his breath he strained his eyes, and before long he had the
+satisfaction of seeing the matter-of-fact elucidation of the mystery
+which had shaken his well-hardened nerves, for though much less plainly
+seen, and from a different point of view, there was the draped head
+which had alarmed him passing before the pulpit, round into the chancel,
+and into the vestry, whose latch gave a slight click.
+
+"Yes," he muttered; "doctor shall find you, and to-night, my lady.  You
+don't stand between her and her rights."
+
+He chuckled in anticipation of the scene that was to come, and, slowly
+descending from the pulpit, followed the figure till he was pretty close
+to the chancel door, but inside the rectory pew, over whose side he
+could listen as he knelt on the cushion of one of the seats, but quite
+ready to bob down into sheltering darkness should there be a risk of
+being seen.
+
+Again he had not long to wait, for as he listened he heard the sound of
+a key in the outer door, the entering of some one, the withdrawal of the
+key, its insertion on the vestry side, and the locking of the door,
+followed by a low murmuring of voices.
+
+"Pretty doves!" muttered the old sexton.  "Coo away, sweet, soft
+critters!  Mummy, am I, Squire Tom?  Hideous old figure, am I, Miss Leo?
+Oh, you needn't deny it.  You've told my Dally I was, scores of times.
+All right.  He! he! he!  Chilly place to make love.  Dessay you'll catch
+colds, so I'll bring the doctor!"
+
+He kept his word, and North had his hand upon the latch, while Moredock
+gleefully rubbed his hands in anticipation of a scene that should
+relieve some of the tedium of his existence, and advance his
+grandchild's ends, but quietly slipped away home.
+
+"I'd like to see it," he said; "but there may be trouble, and I'm best
+away."
+
+As if fate had determined that Horace North should be fully enlightened
+as to the character of the woman he worshipped, it so happened that as
+the door was thrown open, Tom Candlish was striking a flaming fusee.
+
+The sharp crick--crick--crack of the explosive end overcame the sound
+made by the latch, and the match burst into a reddish blue flame,
+illuminating the whole place, for the young squire for the moment was
+too much taken aback to cast it down.
+
+North uttered a hoarse groan as he gazed at the group before him: Tom
+Candlish seated in the curate's chair by the oaken table, and Leo upon
+his knee with her arm about his neck, and her head resting upon his
+shoulder, while seen by the lurid light there appeared to be a couple of
+clergymen, one in black, the other in white, standing behind them in the
+background, as if to give sanction to their proceedings by performing
+some holy rite.
+
+"The devil!" shouted Candlish, as Leo leaped from his lap, and crouched
+away in one corner of the vestry, her shame concealed by the sudden
+darkness that fell as Tom Candlish cast down the match.
+
+"You scoundrel!" cried North, as, furious with rage, he dashed at the
+man whom he felt to have been the cause of his agonising pang.
+
+For a moment he had turned towards where he had seen Leo shrink away,
+his eyes flashing as if he could have withered the wretched creature
+whom he had believed to be all that was good and true, but who, in spite
+of his passion for her, seemed now to be too base to be worthy even of a
+word.
+
+He could not crush her.  He could not assail her with the bitterness of
+the words which rushed to his lips.  The veil had fallen from his eyes,
+and in that dire moment, as he saw her hanging upon the neck of the
+brutal, coarse young squire, his doting love turned to a savage hate.
+
+But he could not crush her; he could not strike her even with his
+contempt; but a fierce laugh escaped his throat as he felt how good and
+kind fate had been to him in giving him the opportunity for taking ample
+revenge.
+
+And how sweet it seemed as he sprang in the dusk at Tom Candlish.
+
+Fate was kind to him again for the moment, for, as if instinctively,
+North's hands caught the sturdy young giant in his fierce grip, and for
+a few moments they swayed here and there, striking against the wall, the
+simple furniture of the place, crashing against the closet where the
+registers were kept, and tearing down the surplice and gown to trample
+them on the floor.
+
+"Are you mad, doctor?" panted Tom Candlish.
+
+"Yes," came hissing through the doctor's teeth.
+
+"Don't be a cursed fool.  Recollect where you are."
+
+"Recollect where I am!" cried North with a bitter laugh.  "You say that
+to me, you sacrilegious hound!"
+
+They swayed here and there again, North striving hard to get a hand free
+to strike a blow, but in vain; and the struggle was one savage wrestle,
+in which the weaker man seemed to be made the equal of the stronger by
+the passion in his breast.
+
+Meanwhile Leo Salis, trembling in every limb, crouched in the dark far
+corner of the vestry, and half lay huddled up, listening to the fierce
+struggle, too much unnerved to move.
+
+At last, though, the desire to escape--to make her way home--mastered
+all else, and she made for the nearest point of exit--the door into the
+churchyard; but though she passed her hand over it again and again, the
+key was not there.  Tom Candlish had it in his pocket, and he was unable
+to set her free.
+
+She tried to creep past the contending couple to the chancel door, but
+as she strove for it, Tom Candlish was driven against her, nearly fell,
+and uttered a savage curse, which drowned her cry of agony, for he had
+crushed her delicate hand beneath his heel.
+
+She shrank back into the corner again, sobbing with fear: but as the
+struggle continued she nerved herself once more, and this time rose to
+her feet and tried the other way, just as Tom Candlish was gaining the
+mastery, and swung North round so savagely that he struck the wretched
+girl, and drove her heavily against the wall.
+
+Leo uttered a hoarse gasp, and stretched out her hands to save herself,
+when her left touched the oaken door leading into the chancel.
+
+This revived her just as her feelings were overcoming her and she was
+turning faint.
+
+With a quick motion she caught the latch, dragged it up, passed through
+the opening, and, closing the heavy oaken door, sped along the chancel
+and south aisle to the big door, unlatched it, and, hardly knowing what
+she did, passed into the porch, and relocked the door before running
+down to the lych-gate, round to the meadows, and then breathlessly back
+to the Rectory garden.
+
+"Safe!" she panted; "safe!" as she reached the rustic summer-house, and
+climbed rapidly up to gain her room, and, after softly closing the
+casement, sink down sobbing on the floor, bathed in perspiration, and
+with her breath coming in sobs.  "That idiot will not dare to speak.  I
+hope Tom will half kill him.  What an escape!  But no one will know."
+
+At this thought she breathed more freely, in happy ignorance of the fact
+that Dally was just closing her window, gleefully hoping that there had
+been a scene.
+
+That scene was over now, for as the big south door closed on Leo the
+struggle was at its fiercest, and Tom Candlish was getting the worst of
+the encounter.
+
+"Loose my throat, North!" he cried.  "So cursedly ungentlemanly."
+
+"Yes; I am dealing with a scoundrel, whom Hartley Salis thrashed, and
+I'll thrash you too, you dog!"
+
+As he spoke, he dealt with his now freed hand a fierce blow right
+between Tom Candlish's eyes, making him stagger back.
+
+But the triumph was momentary, for, rendered savage by the pain, the
+young squire flung himself upon his adversary, and bore him back as a
+jingling of a falling key was heard.  The wrestling grew wilder and
+fiercer, and then Horace North felt as if his legs were suddenly
+enmeshed.  He strove to free them, but in vain; and before he could
+recover the ground he had lost he was flung heavily, his head coming
+with a crash upon the stone floor, just where the matting did not cover
+it, and he lay without motion, and made no sound.
+
+"Curse him for a fool!  Let him lie there till he comes to," panted Tom
+Candlish.  "Where's the key?  What a fool!  I heard it fall as we
+struggled.  Matches?  They went too, and if they didn't I daren't light
+one."
+
+He felt his way to the chancel door, but in his confusion he could not
+open it, as Leo had made it fast.
+
+"She's got away home by now," muttered Candlish.  "Where's my hat?  All
+right; I put it on the window-ledge.  Hah!--yes, that will do."
+
+He stepped up on the oaken chest beneath the long, narrow window, opened
+the iron-framed casement, and, squeezing himself through, stood in a
+bent attitude, holding on for a few moments, and then leaped down into
+the black darkness.
+
+A dull thud as he came down on the gravel, a crushing blow, followed by
+another rapidly given; a heavy groan, and then silence.
+
+A minute later a rustling sound as of some one stealing away.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XIV.
+
+"WHAT HAVE!  DONE?"
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+No answer.  All was pitchy dark, but a pleasant, cool air fanned the
+speaker's burning brow.
+
+"Moredock!  Are you asleep?  The light's out.  What's the matter?
+What's this cloth about my legs?"
+
+There was a rustling sound as Horace North rose to his feet, dragged a
+fallen surplice from his feet, and began to feel about him in a confused
+way.
+
+But that was a wall, not the ends of coffins; that was an overturned
+table, not the stone slab with its hideous burden; and that--
+
+"Oh!"
+
+Horace North reeled against the wall, and rested there as he uttered
+that piteous groan; for, like a flash of lightning, the ray of memory
+had shot into his darkened brain, and he saw once more the wretched idol
+he had worshipped gazing wildly at him with starting eyes--she, the
+woman he had set upon a pinnacle, grovelling before him in her shame!
+The moment before, the lady of his frank, honest love; the next moment
+revealed to him as low in mind, as degraded as some miserable rustic
+wench, ready to accept the kisses of the first man who called her
+"dear!"
+
+"Am I going mad?" he groaned.  "Poor Salis!  Poor Mary Salis!  They must
+never know.  And poor me!  Fool! blind idiot!  But I loved her," he
+moaned: "and I thought her so sweet and pure and true--a woman for whom
+I would have shed my heart's best blood--a woman for whom I--Pah!  I
+must not stand puling here!  Blood?  Yes, blood!  The brute!  He's
+strong as a horse."
+
+He took out a pocket-handkerchief, doubled it, and roughly bandaged his
+head; for it was bleeding from a cut at the back.
+
+"Clear my brain," he muttered; "I must not stand here.  That place left
+open!  Is Moredock there?"
+
+He felt his way to the door; and, as he stepped cautiously along, his
+foot kicked against something which jingled on the tiled floor.
+
+He felt about, touched the surplice which had been dragged down and
+entangled his legs; and, as he snatched it away, the key jingled once
+more, and he caught it up.
+
+He opened and relocked the door after he had passed out, breathing more
+freely as he stood in the cool, dark night.
+
+"Moredock!" he whispered.  "Are you there?"
+
+There was no reply, but he did not stir; for a curious feeling of
+confusion attacked him once more, and he put his hand to his head to try
+and master his thoughts.
+
+"Yes," he muttered; "of course I must go and close that place up.  Even
+if I go mad, that must not be known."
+
+He took a few steps instinctively towards the vault, and fell over
+something in the path, contriving, however, to save himself, so that he
+only came down upon his hands and knees.
+
+The shock acted like a spell, and brought back his wandering mind.
+
+"Who's this?" he muttered.  "Moredock?"
+
+He passed his hands rapidly about the body before him, lying flat upon
+its back.
+
+"Tom Candlish!" he ejaculated, as his hands came in contact, the one
+with a curiously-shaped breast-pin the young squire wore, the other with
+the bunch of charms and the locket he wore on his chain.
+
+"Good heavens!  What have I done?  The man is dead!"
+
+North started to his feet, trying hard to collect his wandering ideas,
+for he was at sea once more.  He could not comprehend how Tom Candlish
+had contrived to get there, till he recalled the window, and at the same
+time recollected that he had struck at him again and again with all his
+might.
+
+"Have I killed him?" he muttered; and, suffering still from the blow
+upon his head, his mental faculties seemed to be quite off their
+balance.  The calm medical man, with his accurate judgment, was no
+longer there; but one full of wild excitement--one moment bubbling over
+with delirious joy at having triumphed over his enemy, of whom he had
+been madly jealous; the next, ready to shrink and tremble at the deed he
+had done.
+
+He did not--he could not--pause to calculate how it had happened, beyond
+feeling that he must have beaten his enemy horribly, till he had in his
+last efforts struck him down, and then crawled out from the window to
+fall and die.  He could not arrange all this in an orderly manner, for
+he was now seized with a frantic horror of discovery; and the question
+filled his mind, what was he--a murderer--to do?
+
+Only one idea occurred to him, and that was the natural one that occurs
+to the most ignorant under the circumstances: he had slain this man, and
+the penalty was death for death.  He did not know that he wanted to
+live, the shock had been too horrible that night; but he must act--he
+must do something; and, yielding entirely to his impulses, he bent down,
+and, with a wonderful effort of nervous force, raised the fallen man,
+and stood thinking for a few moments.
+
+Impulse moved him then; and, without further hesitation, he bore the
+body down the steps to the door of the mausoleum.
+
+The door yielded to his pressure, and he stepped in with his load, the
+darkness proving no hindrance to him, for he knew the place so well that
+he could come and go without touching the sides for guidance.
+
+He stood right in the middle of the place for a few moments, thinking;
+one brother hanging over his left shoulder, the other lying motionless
+upon that cold stone slab, as he had lain all through the series of
+experiments which had been tried.
+
+"It is fate," he muttered, as he softly lowered his burden down upon the
+sawdust-covered floor, the brothers side by side, save that the younger
+was lower--nearer to his mother earth.
+
+Then, in a quick, business-like way, North stepped to the door, passed
+through, and locked it, and then served the iron gate in the railings
+the same.
+
+"I must fetch my instruments away some day," he muttered--"if I stay.
+No one will seek him there.  He will be supposed to have fled from me.
+But Moredock?
+
+"Moredock can be trusted; I can silence him," he said grimly.  "He knew
+who was there."
+
+North stood thinking for a few minutes in the churchyard, half startled,
+but feeling a certain relief as well as pleasure in the fact that his
+rival was removed from his path.
+
+Then that word "rival" seemed to strike him a mental blow, for it
+brought up to his confused intellect why it was that he and Tom Candlish
+had been rivals; and at this thought he once again saw Leo, the woman he
+had loved, gazing wildly in his face; and, with a low moan, he
+staggered, more than walked, from the churchyard, making instinctively
+for home; but as he reached the sexton's cottage, the faint light
+therein attracted him, and, feeling dizzy, he put his hand to his head,
+to find that it was bleeding freely.
+
+As he hesitated whether to go in or hurry on, the door, which had been
+ajar, opened more widely, and a great, claw-like hand was thrust out,
+and he was guided to the big Windsor chair.
+
+"Hurt, doctor?  All over blood?  Don't say you didn't dress him down."
+
+North made no answer, for the low-ceiled room seemed sailing round as he
+turned his ghastly face and gazed in the speaker's eyes.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XV.
+
+A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT.
+
+"My turn now," said Moredock, with a low chuckle.  "Times as he's given
+me doses.  He, he, he!  I can give him one now."
+
+The old sexton took a key from his vest, and opened a curious old oaken
+corner cupboard, upon whose shelves were ranged a variety of objects
+which gleamed out from their prison, and seemed to suggest that they had
+not been honestly come by.  The most prominent object, however, was a
+square, black schnapps bottle, with a footless glass turned upside down
+beside it.
+
+"There, doctor," chuckled the old man, as he made the cork squeak and
+the liquid gurgle when he poured some out; "that arn't the same physic
+as you give me, but it's real line, and was sent down to me by a London
+gent as I've dealt with many a time."
+
+North did not hesitate, but drank the dram of strong brandy at a gulp.
+
+"That puts life into you, don't it, doctor, eh?  Better now?"
+
+"Hah!" sighed North, returning the glass, and leaning back in the chair.
+"No, no; that will do."
+
+The stimulus did more than carry off the sensation of fainting, it gave
+back the power to think consistently; and North sat up as if considering
+what he should do next.
+
+"He's knocked you about a bit, doctor," said Moredock, breaking in upon
+his musings.
+
+"Eh?  Yes; we had a sharp struggle," said North, starting.
+
+"Sent him home like a cur with his tail between his legs, haven't you,
+doctor?"
+
+North shuddered and caught Moredock's arm.
+
+"How did you know that--that he was there?"
+
+"Oh, I foun' it out!" said the old man evasively.  "I've seen ends of
+cigars there and ashes on the floor; and I thought at first that parson
+smoked, and told him of it."
+
+"And--and what did he say?"
+
+"Looked guilty," chuckled the old man.
+
+North was silent for a few moments, sitting with one hand across his
+eyes, trying to think out what he should do.
+
+"Moredock," he said, sharply turning on the old man; "why did you show
+me that to-night?"
+
+The sexton gazed at him fixedly.
+
+"Tell me--the truth."
+
+"Well, doctor, it didn't do for young Squire Tom to be dessicating my
+church."
+
+"You had some other reason."
+
+"Well, it warn't safe for us.  He might ha' foun' us out."
+
+"Yes, exactly; but you would have warned me instead of taking me there.
+Why did you do that?"
+
+"Well, doctor, of course I warn't blind."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Well, you see," said the old man, with a grin, "the saxun's pay arn't
+much; and a man looks out for what's coming to help him on."
+
+"I don't understand you, man."
+
+"Well, berrin's and christenin's and marriagein's as all bring in a bit
+more.  I've sin it for long enough."
+
+"Seen what?"
+
+"That you was doin' a bit o' courting up at the Rect'ry; and it didn't
+seem nice for your young lady to be going out o' nights to meet Squire
+Tom, and in my church."
+
+North groaned.
+
+"Never you mind, doctor; I like you," said Moredock soothingly.
+
+"Was this--was this known about the village?"
+
+"'Bout you, or 'bout young miss?"
+
+"Both, man, both!"
+
+"Nay, not it.  I see a deal, because I'm a man as thinks, doctor.  No; I
+don't s'pose any one knows on it.  But never you mind, doctor; gels
+always will be gels and listen to chaps like Squire Tom.  But I say,"
+whispered the old man, with a chuckle, after crossing to the window and
+seeing that the print curtain was well drawn over the broken patch
+through which the leaden tobacco jar had been hurled, "did you give it
+him well?"
+
+North groaned.
+
+"Why, doctor!  Took more bad?"
+
+The old man glanced at the hand he had laid upon the doctor's shoulder,
+and wiped it, for it was wet with blood; and the sight of the hideous
+smear seemed to raise a terrible thought in his brain.
+
+"Why, doctor," he said, in a low whisper; "you haven't--you haven't hurt
+him much?"
+
+North seized the old man's arm, and sat gazing wildly at him for a few
+moments without speaking.  He was battling with the mental confusion
+that troubled him and kept him in a state of hesitancy, in which his
+mind drifted like a derelict at sea.
+
+He mastered it at last, and began to see clearly that, from what the old
+sexton knew, he must continue to make him his confidant.  There could be
+no half measures.  For his own safety he must tell him all; though even
+now there was Leo, who knew of the encounter.
+
+No; she dare not speak, suspect what she might.  For her reputation's
+sake, she must hold her tongue.
+
+Meanwhile, the old man glanced at his hand again, and, with a look of
+disgust, went through the action of wiping it.
+
+"Why, doctor--doctor!" he whispered; "don't say you've--!"
+
+"I couldn't help it, Moredock," said North excitedly.  "It was in the
+struggle: it was a fight for life.  We were both mad with rage, and I--I
+struck him."
+
+"Ay, ay, doctor; but you needn't ha' hit him so hard.  Look at the
+blood!  Deary, deary; and all this trouble about a gel."
+
+"I don't know how it happened," panted North, clinging tightly to the
+old man's arm.  "I must have given him a terrible blow."
+
+"But it's a hanging matter, doctor--a hanging matter!" whispered the
+sexton.  "Don't hold me, man; I didn't do it!  I won't be dragged into
+it!  I didn't know you'd go and do that!"
+
+"I didn't mean to, Moredock.  It was in my rage."
+
+"But it's murder, doctor; it's murder, and they'll try you for your
+life!"
+
+"It must not be known.  We must--"
+
+"Nay, nay: it isn't we," protested the old man.  "It was you did it.  I
+was skeered about you both getting wild, and I thought I'd be out of it,
+and came home."
+
+"But you must help me, Moredock!  You shall help me, man!"
+
+"I can't help you, doctor: it's murder!" protested the sexton, trying to
+escape from the fierce grasp which held him.
+
+"It was not murder!  It was fair fight!" cried North fiercely.  "And,
+look here, man, you cannot help yourself.  You must help me to hide this
+terrible night's work."
+
+The old man ceased struggling: for the doctor's words impressed him, and
+he felt how thoroughly they two were linked together.
+
+"But it's like cutting short a man's days," he half whimpered.
+
+"Silence!  Do what I say, and no one need know what has occurred."
+
+"But--"
+
+"Silence, I say!" cried North, firmly now.  "Get your hat; we must go to
+the church at once."
+
+Moredock stood half bent, and with his head turned to his companion.
+
+"Where--where is he, doctor?"
+
+"In the Candlish vault.  I carried him there!"
+
+"Hah!"
+
+The sexton drew a long breath.  "You must come on and remove all traces
+of the struggle in the vestry, and then--"
+
+"In the morslem, eh, doctor?" said the old man thoughtfully, and growing
+resigned to the difficulties of his position.  "Well, we can put him
+where no one's likely to find him there.  Hey, doctor, but it's been a
+bad thing for me to ha' met you!"
+
+"Your lanthorn and matches--quick!" said North.  "There is no time to
+lose!"
+
+"But if--if--doctor?"
+
+"If what?"
+
+"If it is found out, you'll say a word for me.  You've made me do all
+this.  I do want to live my fifteen or twenty years more in peace."
+
+"Trust me as you've trusted me before," said North, who was now speaking
+calmly enough, and had grasped the situation.  "I tell you it was an
+accident--a horrible accident.  It was in fair fight; and I have come
+off none too well."
+
+"I'll stand by you, doctor," said the old man; "and we'll hide it safe.
+But there's Dally," he muttered to himself--"Dally.  She'll know there's
+something wrong, for she won't believe.  Not that he has gone away out
+o' fear o' doctor?  Ay, she'll have to think that.  My poor little
+lass--my poor little lass!"
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XVI.
+
+THE DOCTOR IS RELIEVED.
+
+The old clock wheezed, and rattled, and spun round, and its weights ran
+down as the doctor and old Moredock entered the belfry door.  Then, as
+the portal was closed, the dark place seemed to be filled with sound as
+the chimes rang out the four quarters, and then the deep-toned strokes
+of hammer upon bell proclaimed that it was nearing day.
+
+"Only three o'clock," thought North, "and it seems as many days as
+hours."
+
+They passed into the church as soon as the old man had lit his lanthorn
+and covered it with the skirt of his coat, which he held so that the
+light fell only upon the matting, and here and there upon a brass or
+some half-worn letters cut in the stones.
+
+The chancel door stuck and refused to open till the old man had held
+down his lanthorn to see what held it.
+
+"What's here?" he whispered, as something glittered.  "Young miss's
+bracelet," he added, as he dragged out the shining gewgaw, which Leo had
+dropped in her flight, and which had fallen close to the bottom of the
+door, and acted as a wedge.  "Take hold, doctor."
+
+"Pah!" ejaculated North, drawing back.  "Throw it away."
+
+"Ay, I'll throw it away," muttered the old man, stuffing the heavy gold
+circle into his pocket: "I'll throw it away.  Hey, but lookye here."
+
+He held up the lanthorn, and revealed the state of the vestry--the chair
+overturned, the table driven into a corner, and the gown and surplice
+torn from the pegs on which they had hung, trampled and twisted, while
+in one place the tiles close to the wainscot were stained with blood, a
+few drops of which had splashed the panelled oak.
+
+"Shut that window, man--quick!  Hide your light."
+
+Moredock obeyed, screening his lanthorn, and then climbing on to the oak
+chest and drawing in and fastening the hasp.
+
+"Shall I--" he began, as he got down.
+
+"Hang it, man, no!"
+
+"Hist!  Don't say that there word," whispered Moredock excitedly.
+
+"You can come up here to-morrow, and clean up, and arrange the place.
+Let's get to the vault at once."
+
+The old sexton's hands trembled as he opened the vestry door, but as he
+felt how calm and decisive his companion seemed to be, he took courage
+and followed North through the iron gate and down the steps to the
+mausoleum door.
+
+"Keep that lanthorn well covered," whispered North, as he unlocked the
+door; "and you have not locked the gates."
+
+The old man stepped back, feeling the wisdom of his companion's
+proceedings as far as caution was concerned; and by the time he had
+stepped back, North was inside the great vault, holding the door for him
+to enter.
+
+"There, let's have the light now," said the doctor bitterly.  "Be firm.
+You are not afraid to face a dead man?"
+
+"Nay, I'm not sheered now, doctor," whispered Moredock; "but you'll--
+you'll--you'll--"
+
+"Pay you?"
+
+"Ay, doctor.  You see, it's--it's--"
+
+"Don't halt and stammer, man," said the doctor sternly.  "This is a
+terrible business, but I can trust you, and you can trust me.  Stand by
+me firmly over this, and I will give you enough every year to make you
+comfortable to the end of your days."
+
+"Hi, doctor, that's speaking out like a man," said Moredock, smiling
+hideously as he opened the horn lanthorn to snuff the candle with his
+fingers, when the light shone full in his face.  "And he warn't no good,
+were he?"
+
+"I dare say he valued his life as highly as I valued mine--yesterday,"
+added the doctor softly.
+
+"And he tried to kill you, didn't he?" whispered Moredock, closing the
+lanthorn again.
+
+"As much as I tried to kill him, I suppose," said North.  "We were
+fighting like two brute beasts."
+
+"Ay, and it was for life, like," said Moredock, in a satisfied tone.
+"It warn't murder, doctor, were it?"
+
+"By law, I suppose not," said North quietly, as he stood in his former
+attitude with his hand over his eyes.  "There, we must not waste time.
+My experiment is over now, and we must restore this place to its old
+state."
+
+"Not murder," said Moredock, with a chuckle; "of course not.  I feel
+easy now."
+
+He held the lanthorn over the extended form of Tom Candlish, which
+looked strangely ghastly by the feeble yellow light; and as he bent
+down, he could see that the young squire had received two terrible
+blows--one on his forehead, and the other on the right temple--both of
+which had bled and left a hideous stain upon the sawdust.
+
+"Dally 'll have to try again," said the old man to himself.  "Enough a
+year to make me comf'table, and the doctor to keep me alive.  You
+wouldn't ha' done that, Tom Candlish, over the money; and you couldn't
+ha' kept me alive when I was badly.  You'd ha' been a brute to the gel
+too 'fore you'd had her long.  There, it's all a blessing in disguise,
+as Parson Salis says."
+
+He grinned in his ghoul-like way, and turned to touch North on the
+elbow.
+
+"Doctor!" he whispered.
+
+North's hands fell from before his eyes, and he turned to gaze wildly at
+the old man, as one gazes when suddenly awakened from a too heavy sleep.
+
+"Yes!  What is it?  I'd forgotten.  My head, man."
+
+"Look here," whispered the old sexton, leading him to the far right-hand
+corner of the vault, where a particularly florid old tarnished coffin
+handle dimly reflected the light in its ancient niche.
+
+The old man gave the end of the coffin a rap with his knuckles.
+
+"Empty," he whispered, grinning; and he tapped it again, so that it
+emitted a hollow sound.
+
+"Empty?"
+
+"Ay; empty now, doctor.  An old Squire Candlish lay in there two hundred
+years ago a'most; now a new Squire Candlish can lie in it, eh?"
+
+"Conceal the body there?" said North, who looked dazed.
+
+"Tchah!  Only put him in there to sleep: that's all, doctor; and nobody
+but us'll know."
+
+"Quick, then," said North; "I'm a good deal hurt, man, and my head feels
+confused."
+
+"Ay, to be sure, doctor, I'll be quick, and then you can go home and put
+yourself to rights, and go on again here just as before.  Take hold."
+
+North obeyed in a dreamy way, apparently not knowing what he did; and as
+Moredock dragged out the old coffin, with its tattered velvet and
+tarnished ornamentations, he took the handle at the far end, and it was
+lifted down into the sawdust.
+
+The old man took the screw-driver from where it lay on the new coffin,
+where Sir Luke should have reposed, and rapidly turned the screws,
+leaving each standing up in its hole, and then lifted off the lid, to
+disclose some yellow lining and faded flowers, turning rapidly to so
+much dust--nothing more.
+
+"It'll fit him," whispered Moredock.  "All the men Candlishes are 'bout
+the same size.
+
+"There, doctor," he continued, as he set the lid down.  "Now, then, to
+make all safe."
+
+The old man's words seemed to rouse North from his dreamy state, and
+with a start he looked at the old wretch before him, then at the empty
+coffin, and his quick medical appreciation of the situation seemed for
+the first time to have fully returned.
+
+"Here; hold the light," he said.
+
+"Better set it down there," whispered Moredock.  "We can see better,
+then."
+
+"Hold the light, I say," cried the doctor sternly; and he went down on
+one knee by the young squire's side.
+
+Moredock looked on wonderingly, for it had not occurred to him to make
+any inquiry into the young man's state.  North had as good as told him
+that he was slain, and to have questioned the doctor's verdict would
+have been unnatural.  He stood there then in a bent position, holding
+the lanthorn, as North made a rapid examination of the young baronet,
+and then rose to his feet in a calm, practical manner, uttering a sigh
+of relief.
+
+"Ready, doctor?" whispered Moredock, to whom all this seemed in the
+highest degree unnecessary.
+
+"Ready, man?  No.  Put that ghastly thing away.  Tom Candlish will go on
+working wickedness for years after you've been under ground."
+
+Moredock straightened himself up, and held the lanthorn above his head,
+so that its light could fall upon the doctor's face.  Then, apparently
+not satisfied, he lowered it, moved the wire slide, and opened the
+little door, before turning the light on the doctor's face again.
+
+"Well?" said North.
+
+"What yer talking about, doctor?  You don't mean--mean as--as--"
+
+"I mean that the man is only stunned," said North, frowning, as he stood
+gazing down at his rival; "and we must alter all our plans, Moredock.
+Neither you nor I will be hung for murdering Tom Candlish," he added,
+with a half-savage laugh, as resentment against the man began to take
+the place of the horror which had pervaded his soul.
+
+"Why, doctor," whispered Moredock, "you're a bit off your head.  Come,
+man, quick; and let's get it done.  No one will know."
+
+"Pshaw!  I'm as sane as you are when this confused feeling is not here."
+
+"But Tom Candlish--the squire?"
+
+"I tell you he's alive, man!  Do you not understand?"
+
+And the party in question endorsed his rival's statement by uttering a
+low moan.
+
+At that moment, by natural magnetism, or influence, or occult action of
+mind upon mind, or whatever it may have been, two people who had lain
+wakeful and excited in their separate beds, now feverish, now perspiring
+profusely from horror and abject fear, turned their weary heads upon
+their pillows, and dropped off fast asleep.
+
+The name of one of the sleepers was Leo Salis, and of the other Joe
+Chegg.
+
+"But he's nearly dead, doctor," whispered Moredock, and he glanced round
+at the coffin.
+
+"Don't you think that--"
+
+He made a significant sign towards the coffin, and there was a strange
+leer upon his ghoulish face.
+
+Dr North turned swiftly round, and caught his tempter by the throat!
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XVII.
+
+THE SEXTON'S NEWS.
+
+"You ring, sir?"
+
+"Yes, Dally; go up to Miss Leo's room, and say we are waiting
+breakfast."
+
+"Yes, sir," said Dally, and her blackcurrant eyes gave a malicious
+twinkle.
+
+"Oh, how I should like to know," she muttered to herself, as she left
+the room.
+
+"It's so tiresome," exclaimed Salis testily; "busy as I am this
+morning--letters to write.  I must answer this last letter of May's.
+More complaints--more complaints!  Oh, what a wretched curate he has
+got!"
+
+Mary looked up from her seat, with her gentle smile, for she knew how
+the harsh crystals of annoyance would melt away with the first cup of
+tea, and her brother be all smiles again.
+
+"Wouldn't you like to begin, dear?"
+
+"Begin?  Without Leo!  You know, Mary, how particular she is, and how
+she would feel it as a slight.  Tut--tut--tut!  How late she is!  Mrs
+Berens, too, been writing.  Do you know, Mary, I wish that woman would
+leave the place!"
+
+"She is not likely to, Hartley," said Mary, who was propped up with
+cushions at the head of the table, having lately taken her old place
+once more; "and she is very kind and good."
+
+"Yes, that's the worst of it," said Salis grimly.  "If she were a
+disagreeable old harridan, it would not matter so much.  Oh! here she
+comes."
+
+Leo came quickly into the breakfast-room, looking strained about the
+eyes, to cross to Mary, put down her right cheek to be kissed, and then
+to go to her brother, extend him her hand, and lower her left cheek for
+a second salute.
+
+"That's right, dear," said Salis cheerily; "but you are terribly late.
+I'm so busy this morning."
+
+"Why did you not begin?" said Leo, as she languidly took her place.
+
+"Without you?  Not likely.  Pour out, Mary, dear.  Why, Leo--not well?"
+
+"Not well?" she said, repeating his words calmly enough.  "I am quite
+well, dear."
+
+"But you look--"
+
+"As if I had overslept myself," said Leo quietly.  "Any letters?"
+
+"Yes.  One sent on by Mrs Berens about the parish poor.  Must bring
+that up this morning.  One from May.  That wicked old man!  I know he
+keeps on with this persecution--there, I can call it nothing else--on
+purpose to get me to resign."
+
+"And you will not resign, Hartley," said Leo; "you will set him at
+defiance."
+
+"I don't know.  I do love a quiet life, and I cannot get it.  Now,
+here's this morning.  Letters to write--more tea, Mary.  Ten-o'clock
+meeting in the vestry."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Why, Leo, dear!" cried the curate, half starting from his chair, while
+Mary gazed wonderingly at her sister.
+
+"There's nothing the matter, good people," said Leo contemptuously.  "A
+touch of toothache!  The weather, I suppose."
+
+"You quite startled me," said Salis cheerily.  "Visit to the dentist
+imminent, my dear.  Let's see, where was I?  Oh, yes!  Vestry meeting at
+ten," he continued, turning to a memorandum-book; "Sir Thomas Candlish
+to preside, by special request."
+
+Leo's face was ghastly, but she mastered her emotions by a tremendous
+effort of will; and, rising from her seat, she fetched a book from the
+sideboard, opened it as she returned to her place, and went on reading
+with her breakfast.
+
+"Ah! you'll be glad to hear this, Mary," said Salis.  "North is going to
+bring up the question of those four dilapidated cottages.  He says they
+are regular fever generators, and that Sir Thomas shall have them pulled
+down, for they are a disgrace to the place."
+
+"They certainly are not fit for human habitation, Hartley," said Mary,
+who could not keep her wondering eyes off her sister, making a pretence
+of eating and reading, but doing neither.  She could do nothing but
+listen to the recital of peril after peril accumulating round her, and
+all following upon a pert, insolent reply given her by Dally Watlock as
+she was coming down.
+
+"I expect we shall have a storm," continued Salis, as if to himself.
+"It's like asking the arbitrary landlord to have a tooth out, to pull
+down a labourer's cottage."
+
+Leo Salis had the spirit and cruelty of heart of an old Roman woman.
+She could have viewed with a feeling of intense delight a gladiatorial
+exhibition, and turned down her thumb with the worst of them for the
+death-warrant of any poor wretch who had not displayed a sufficiency of
+courage.  To her the new-born passion of Horace North had been a matter
+of intense satisfaction, and she had revelled with a malicious joy in
+the feeling that she had made him her slave--one who would never meet
+with the slightest reward.  But while she was careless of the pain she
+inflicted upon others, she could suffer keenly at times, and this was
+one of these occasions.  She loved as a tigress might love, and her
+affection had become centred upon the brutal, coarse-minded, athletic
+scoundrel, who ranked as a gentleman, but whose tastes and ways were
+those of a low-class stable helper; and now, after a night of miserable
+anxiety lest her lover should have been injured by North, while she dare
+make no inquiry as to what had occurred--she found herself obliged to
+sit there chained as much by inclination as by necessity to hear that
+Tom Candlish and the doctor were to be brought face to face before her
+brother in the scene of the previous night's encounter.
+
+After a short sleep, she had awoke at dawn to ask herself what she
+should do--whether she should fly from the Rectory, and bid Tom Candlish
+take her away, so that she should not be called upon to face the
+scornful looks and contempt of North.
+
+But after a time her stubborn and determined nature had taught her that
+she would be at a great disadvantage with Tom Candlish if she went to
+him.  He would be no longer the suer but the sued, and she was
+determined that he should make her his wife.
+
+"North dare not speak to me; and if he did, what then?  He is my slave,
+and I will meet him.  Let him come, and say what he likes.  I am no
+sickly, sentimental girl who feels bound to obey every one in turn.  I
+will not go.  I'll face it all."
+
+She could not conceal her aspect, but her heart was strong when she came
+down that morning till the troubles seemed to accumulate, and a black
+cloud of care, which she could not penetrate, appeared to be rising.
+
+Salis went on hurriedly with his breakfast, talking of the business in
+the vestry; and all the time Leo was wondering how it was that North
+could have known of their meetings--how the vestry looked that morning--
+what the old sexton would say, and how this trouble would settle down.
+
+She glanced furtively aside, and saw that Mary was watching her.
+
+This set her wondering whether her sister knew anything, and of whether
+her nocturnal escapades would reach her brother's ears.
+
+It was not likely, she told herself; and she was gradually growing more
+composed, when Dally presented herself briskly at the door, her eyes
+twinkling, and a quiet, satisfied look about her which seemed to show
+that she was pleased with the task she had in hand.
+
+"Note from Dr North, sir!  No answer."
+
+"Hah! about the cottages," said Salis, smiling as he opened the note,
+Dally closing the door after darting a triumphant glance at Leo, which
+was not seen.  "Ammunition to use against the enemy.  How provoking!"
+
+"Is anything wrong, Hartley?" said Mary, while Leo bent lower over her
+book.
+
+"Wrong?  Yes!  There always is something wrong.  Poor Horace is unwell
+this morning, and cannot attend the vestry."
+
+Leo's heart gave a bound.  Her brave, strong lover had beaten the
+wretched intruder, and he had curled up in his hole, afraid to come out.
+There was nothing to fear from Horace North but his contempt, and she
+could meet that with her scorn.
+
+"My poor people's cottages!" sighed Salis.  "They'll have to wait.
+Well, I'm not malignant, but if a fever is generated there, I hope the
+landlord will be the first to catch it."
+
+"Hartley!" cried Mary, in remonstrant tones.
+
+"I didn't say and be cut off," cried Salis, laughing, glancing at the
+window.  "I meant to read him a severe lesson.  Hallo!  Job redivivus!
+I'm Job.  Here comes another messenger.  Why, what does old Moredock
+want?"
+
+Leo's heart sank.  She felt that she knew, and shrank from the ordeal,
+as Dally meekly opened the breakfast-room door.
+
+"Please, sir, gran'fa says can he speak to you a minute?"
+
+"Certainly, Dally; bring him in.  Port wine, Mary!" he added, as soon as
+the maid had left the room; and he recalled certain words he had let
+fall about the missing bottles of tent, and his promise to give the old
+fellow wine if he were unwell.
+
+"Surely, Hartley, you are not going to have that dreadful old man in
+here!" panted Leo, who felt half suffocated by her emotion, as she
+recalled the last night's scene in the vestry.  "Why not, dear?"
+
+"It is too horrible--the sexton!"
+
+"Nonsense, child!  Poor old fellow!  His stay on earth cannot be for
+long; let's make it as free from social thorns as we can.  Morning,
+Moredock!" he cried, as Dally ushered the old man in, to stand bowing to
+Mary and her sister before making a scrape or two before the curate.
+
+"Mornin', young ladies!  Mornin', sir!  Smart mornin', sir!  Sorry to
+trouble you at braxfus, but I was obliged to come."
+
+Leo acknowledged the bow without rising, bent lower over her book, and,
+with teeth set hard, stole one hand under the cloth to grasp the edge of
+the table and grip it with all her might.
+
+"What, about the vestry meeting--to tell me Dr North was ill?"
+
+"Doctor ill!  Is he though, sir?" croaked Moredock, as his red eyes
+wandered from face to face.
+
+"Yes, he is unwell, Moredock, and cannot come."
+
+"Bad job--bad job, sir!  Doctors has no business to be ill.  S'p'ose I
+was took bad, I shouldn't like to trust Dr Benson.  I never did have no
+faith in King's Hampton folk at all.  But it warn't about that."
+
+"What, then?  Nothing serious, I hope?"
+
+"Ay; but it be, sir," croaked the old man, staring for a moment at Mary,
+and then fixing his eyes upon Leo.  "It is very ser'ous.  Some un's been
+in the night and made a burgly in the chutch."
+
+"What!" cried Salis, starting up.  "Great heavens, Moredock! is this
+true?"
+
+"Ay, it be true enough, parson."
+
+"But they haven't taken the plate?"
+
+"Nay, the plate be safe, though."
+
+"The poor-boxes, then?  Thank goodness, Mary, I emptied them the day
+before yesterday.  How providential!"
+
+"They never touched poor-boxes," croaked Moredock: "and if I might make
+so bold, parson, I'm a bit weak i' th' legs yet, and I'd like to sit
+down."
+
+"Yes, yes, sit down, Moredock; but pray speak out."
+
+"Well, you see, sir, they didn't get into my chutch: only into vestry."
+
+Leo felt that she must get up and leave the room, but she lacked the
+power.
+
+"The vestry!" cried Salis.  "What have they taken?"
+
+"Well, as far as I can make out, sir, they broke in at window, and then
+they must ha' been skeered, for they only thieved one thing."
+
+"What!--the wine?"
+
+"Nay, nay, nay.  Wine's all right--locked up in the cupboard," croaked
+Moredock.  "They've stole your surplus, sir."
+
+"Impossible!" cried Salis, giving the table a sounding thump with his
+closed fist, and bursting into a roar of laughter.
+
+"Impossible, Mary.  I haven't any surplus for them to steal."
+
+"Ay, well," grumbled the old sexton, looking wonderingly at the curate
+and then at Leo and Mary in turn; "you may say so, parson, but I know.
+It were a hanging up on peg alongside o' the gownd, and they'd pulled
+'em both down to take away, when they must have been skeered, and they
+chowked the gownd down in the corner by the oak chesty, and the surplus
+is gone."
+
+"Ah, well, it might have been worse," said Salis, with a sigh.  "It was
+my new one, though, and the old one is terribly darned.  Leo, dear, you
+will have to get out the old one again.  Mary has the keys."
+
+"It be a bad job, parson."
+
+"It is, Moredock, a very bad job; but I'm glad the wretches were scared.
+I won't believe it was any one from Duke's Hampton."
+
+"Nay, it were some of the King's Hampton lot, safe, parson.  Ugh!
+they're a bad set out yunder.  I thought it my dooty to come on and tell
+you, sir, and now I'm going away back."
+
+"Let me give you a cup of tea, Moredock," said Mary; "you look tired."
+
+"Bless your sweet eyes and heart, miss, and thankye kindly," said
+Moredock.  "Cup o' tea's a great comfort to a lone old man.  And thankye
+kindly for undertaking to take care o' my Dally, as wants it, like most
+young gels.  Why, Miss Mary, I've know'd you since you was quite a
+little thin slip."
+
+"You have, Moredock," said Mary, smiling, as she handed the tea to her
+brother for the old man, who paid no farther heed to Leo.  "I was only
+fifteen when I first saw you."
+
+"Ay, and you was as bright and quick as now you're--Well, never mind
+that, my dear.  Better be an angel as can't walk about than some
+beautiful gels as can."
+
+"Why, Moredock," said Salis, laughing, "was that meant for a
+compliment?"
+
+"I dunno, parson," said the old man, staring hard at Mary; "'tis only
+what I felt.  Heaven bless her!  I never see her face wi'out thinking o'
+stained glass windows, wi' wire outside to keep away the stones; and I
+says, may no stones never be throwed at her."
+
+The old man gulped down his tea, and rose to go.
+
+"You'll be on at vestry room, sir?"
+
+"Yes, Moredock; and once more I'm glad it's no worse."
+
+"Like me to go over in Badley's donkey-cart, sir, to tell the police?"
+
+"Well, yes, Moredock.  We must give notice about the scoundrels, I
+suppose, or they may come again."
+
+"Mornin', then, sir, and my service to you, Miss Mary, and thankye
+kindly, my dear," said the old man, hobbling off without a word or look
+at Leo; and, oddly enough, as he reached the road he wiped a tear from
+each of his watery eyes.
+
+"And so she is," he muttered, "a real angel.  My Dally never said, `Have
+a cup o' tea, gran'fa; you're hot and tired.'  Ah! gels is made
+different, but my Dally's worth two o' that tother one."
+
+"Police, eh?" he muttered, as he went on.  "I was 'bliged to take it
+away twissened up into a rag, and if it had been washed somebody would
+have known.  Ah, well, I know what to do wi' that."
+
+So the old man went straight home, and fastened the door, before taking
+the soiled and crumpled surplice from his oak chest; and then carefully
+picking it to pieces and rolling it up.
+
+"My Dally shall wash that, first time she comes, and nobody'll know it's
+a surplus now.  She might ha' asked her old gran'fa to have a cup o'
+tea."
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XVIII.
+
+AT CANDLISH HALL.
+
+"My Dally" had been otherwise employed, for a messenger had come over
+from the Hall to see the curate; and at the time her grandfather was
+departing, Dally was cross-examining the good-tempered, loutish youth
+respecting his master, and getting out of him all she could glean.
+
+"Job is having it this morning," said Salis, for he heard a familiar
+step in the passage, as soon as the sexton had gone.  "What now, Dally?
+No more bad news?"
+
+"Bad news, sir?" said the girl, speaking to her master, and gazing at
+Leo, who did not look up.  "I don't think so, sir.  It's the young man
+from Candlish Hall, sir, to see you partikler."
+
+"I knew it," cried Salis to Mary, as Leo bent lower.  "Candlish has sent
+word that he cannot come.  Now, how the de--"
+
+"Hartley!"
+
+"Well, it's enough to make a saint swear.  How can a man carry on his
+parish work like this?  I wish to goodness May had it to do himself.
+Show him in, Dally."
+
+The girl departed, and returned directly with the servant from the Hall,
+who looked stealthily at Salis, and then from Leo to Mary and back.
+
+"Can I speak to you alone, sir?" he said.
+
+"Yes, yes, my man, certainly.  Is it anything serious?"
+
+"Yes, sir--very, sir.  I've come--"
+
+"Here, this way, to my study, my man," said Salis, rising.
+
+"Stop!"
+
+Salis had reached the door--his hand was on the knob, and he was about
+to turn it; but the sharp, commanding voice made him turn in
+astonishment, to see Leo standing erect, with her head thrown back, her
+eyes flashing, and her hand resting upon the book--closed now--and one
+finger shut in to mark the place.
+
+"Leo!"
+
+"Yes; I said `stop.'  We are not children," she cried, in an imperative
+voice.  "Let the man speak here."
+
+"It was about Sir Thomas, ma'am--my master," faltered the man, before
+Salis had recovered from his astonishment.  "An accident."
+
+"An accident?" cried Leo, as Salis stepped to her side, and laid his
+hand upon her arm; but she shrank away.  "Well, sir, why do you not
+speak?"
+
+"Am I to speak, sir?" faltered the man.
+
+"Yes; speak out," said Salis quietly.
+
+"My master did not come home last night, sir--I mean this morning.  He
+often goes out of a night, sir, very late; but he always comes in at
+daybreak.  I've seen him dozens of times."
+
+"Yes; go on," said Leo harshly.
+
+"He didn't come back, miss--ma'am; and I was thinking about it when I
+went to the stables and took his mare and the pad-horse out for
+exercise."
+
+"Speak more quickly, man," said Leo imperiously.
+
+"Yes, ma'am.  We'd got down nearly to the ford, when the mare--master's
+mare, ma'am--shied at something, and nearly threw me."
+
+"The mare shied?" said Leo, with her eyes dilating.
+
+"Yes, ma'am; and I saw it was at master lying there by the side of the
+road."
+
+"Dead?"
+
+"No, ma'am, but very bad.  His head was--"
+
+"Hush!" said Salis, interrupting sternly.  "No particulars, my man; only
+answer me this--was it a fall?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir! some one had been beating him about the head with a stick,
+I should say."
+
+"Had he been robbed?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir!  His watch and chain and pin were all right."
+
+"Was he insensible?" continued Salis.
+
+"Yes, sir; quite, sir; and seemed to have been staggering about the
+road, trying to get home, for there was bl--"
+
+"Hush, man!  Only answer my questions," cried Salis hastily.  "You got
+him home?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said the man, who could not keep his eyes off Leo, who was
+gazing at him wildly--in a way which taught her brother that the old
+love for Tom Candlish was far from dead.
+
+"And then--"
+
+"And then, sir, as soon as we'd got him on his bed, I galloped off for
+Dr North, sir."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But he's ill, sir, and the housekeeper said he couldn't come to the
+Hall."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I hardly knew what to do, then, sir; but as I was wondering what was
+best, Joe Chegg come up, sir--he used to be a groom, you know--and I
+jumped off the mare, and made him get up and go off to King's Hampton to
+fetch Dr Benson, while I came on to you."
+
+"Quite right," said Salis.  "I'll come on with you directly.  Mary, my
+dear, send a line to Moredock to say that there will be no vestry
+meeting.  Yes?  You were going to speak, Leo."
+
+She shook her head, and half closed her eyes, as she turned away,
+shivering at the feeling of vindictive rage which ran through her, as in
+imagination she seemed to see the result of the encounter which had
+taken place, and that it was Tom Candlish who had fared by far the
+worse.
+
+Salis's countenance grew more stern, as he leaned over to Mary, and
+stooped over to say a few words in her ear.
+
+"Try and keep her by your side.  We must have no foolish excitement
+now."
+
+"I will try," said Mary gently; and she looked up to see that Leo was
+watching them both inquiringly, her face contracted, and a singular look
+in her eyes.
+
+For she was wondering what would be the result of her brother's meeting
+with the young squire; and then as she drew her breath painfully, the
+thoughts of self and the dread of detection gave place to feelings of
+horror respecting the man she loved, and of hate, the most bitter and
+intense, against North, whom she now longed to meet that she might
+revile him--heap upon his head her bitterness and contempt.
+
+"It's scared us, sir, horrible," said the man as he walked back with
+Salis.
+
+"Have you any idea who attacked your master?" said Salis.
+
+"Not a bit, sir.  That's the puzzle of it.  If it had been for his
+money, they'd have taken it all, and his watch.  We can't understand it
+a bit."
+
+"I can," said Salis to himself.  "The scoundrel has been insulting some
+one's child, or sweetheart, or wife, and been half killed for his pains.
+I wonder who was the guilty party?  Well I know that," he muttered with
+a half laugh--"Tom Candlish."
+
+"Yes, sir; beg pardon, sir."
+
+"What for, my man?" said Salis, feeling a little disconcerted.
+
+"I thought you laughed, sir, and said something."
+
+"No, no, my man; only a way of mine."
+
+They walked on in silence after this, Salis feeling very sore at heart
+as he thought of his sister, and how painful it was that she should
+still care, as she evidently did, for such a worthless scoundrel.
+
+"Even the knowledge of this new escapade would not move her, I'm
+afraid," he muttered.  "Well, matters like this must settle themselves."
+
+They now reached the Hall, to find the servants assembled, and in a
+state of the most intense excitement.
+
+"Master was no worse," the old butler said.  "He had been asking for
+brandy."
+
+"What?  You did not give it to him?" cried Salis excitedly.
+
+"I was obliged to, sir.  You can't know Sir Thomas, or you wouldn't talk
+like that.  But I'm very glad you've come, sir.--It's such a
+responsibility, having him so bad.  He's terribly cut about, sir.
+Please come in and see if you can do anything more than I have till the
+doctor comes."
+
+Salis followed the old butler up to the bedroom, where Tom Candlish lay
+upon the bed, and, as the butler said, terribly cut about the head; for,
+in addition to the bruises upon his head and temple, he had a cut lip,
+and the very perfection of two black eyes.
+
+"I don't think you need be alarmed," whispered Salis to the old man, as
+the door was opened, and the young squire saluted the butler with a
+volley of good stable oaths.
+
+What the something unmentionable did he mean by bringing the parson? he
+raved.
+
+"Do you think I'm going to die, and want to be prayed for?  Send for a
+doctor."
+
+"I did, Sir Thomas," said the butler deprecatingly; "but Dr North--"
+
+"Curse Dr North!" roared the young man.  "Send for Dr Benson."
+
+"I have, Sir Thomas, and--"
+
+"Be off, you old idiot!  And you, Salis, you'd better go too, or I may
+say something to you that you will not like."
+
+"You can say what you please, my good fellow," said Salis, coolly taking
+off his coat for the second time in the young man's presence.
+
+"You coward," groaned the injured man; "and when I'm like that.  Your
+cursed sister--"
+
+"Silence, you scoundrel!" roared Salis.  "Here, fetch water in a basin,
+sponges, towels, and linen that I can cut up," he continued to the
+butler, who gladly hurried out of the room.  "And you, Candlish, unless
+you wish to rage yourself into a fever, be quiet; but I warn you that if
+you mention my sister again, sick or well, I will not be answerable for
+the consequences."
+
+"What are you going to do?" growled the young man suspiciously.
+
+"Do, sir?  What I would do for any other dog that I saw lying wounded in
+the road.  I'm going to doctor you till proper qualified assistance
+comes."
+
+"He doesn't know," thought Tom Candlish.  Then aloud: "I thought you
+were going to take a mean advantage of me now I was down."
+
+"You thought I was just such a cowardly, mean-spirited brute as you are,
+and as treacherous, eh?" said Salis bitterly, as he rapidly removed the
+clumsy bandage about the young man's head.  "Why, hallo! what does this
+mean?"
+
+"What does what mean?"
+
+"Your head.  It has been bandaged."
+
+"Yes; that old idiot of a butler did it."
+
+"No; I mean this other.  It has been properly strapped up."
+
+"Has it?"
+
+"Yes," said Salis.  "The old man knows more about it than you think for.
+There, lie still."
+
+"Who's to lie still with his head on fire?" growled the injured man.
+"Here, ring for some brandy."
+
+"You mean for the undertaker," said Salis coolly.
+
+"No; the brandy," snarled Tom Candlish.  "I'm sick and faint."
+
+"And you'll be more sick and more faint if you take spirits now.  There,
+lie still, and I'll try and cool your head with this sponge and water."
+
+For the butler had re-entered, and for the next half hour the curious
+spectacle was visible of Hartley Salis playing the good Samaritan, with
+all the knowledge of experience, to the man who was doing his best to
+bring ruin and misery upon his peaceful home.
+
+The delicate, almost feminine touch, soothed the pain Tom Candlish
+suffered; and he lay quietly upon the pillow, looking up at the curate,
+wondering whether he would do this if he knew all, and what he would say
+if he knew that he had deluded Leo into leaving her room night after
+night, to grant him meetings in the old vestry time after time, in spite
+of all that had been said.
+
+The butler had gone, and Tom Candlish was lying with his eyes half
+closed, thinking about his last meeting with Leo, of the coming of the
+doctor, of their encounter, and of the way in which he had been struck
+down, when just after Salis had carefully laid a cool, moist towel upon
+his aching head, the door softly opened, and the baronet started up in
+bed with his ghastly face distorted as he uttered quite a yell.
+
+"Ah, Horace, old fellow!" cried the curate excitedly.  "I have been
+reproaching myself for not coming down to you.  Here is my excuse.  I'm
+so glad you've come."
+
+"Keep him off!  Send him away!" yelled Tom Candlish, trying vainly to
+get to the other side of the bed, as North stood pale, choking, and
+suffering in the doorway.
+
+"Don't take any notice," continued Salis; "a bit delirious, I'm afraid;"
+and then he gazed wonderingly at his friend as, with a fierce,
+implacable look, North strode up to the bed.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XIX.
+
+DOCTOR AND PATIENT.
+
+"Keep him off!  He wants to murder me!"
+
+"My good fellow," said Salis sternly, "you are trying to murder
+yourself.  Sit still, or I'll hold you down.  If you don't know what's
+good for yourself, it's fit some one should."
+
+"But I tell you--"
+
+"And I tell you," cried Salis angrily, for Tom Candlish's fierce
+obstinacy was teaching him that the clerical garb and years of mental
+repression will not quite crush out the natural man.
+
+"It's very good of you to come, North," he said, crossing to his friend.
+"Getting up out of a sick bed, too, for the cause of this brute.  I
+wish sometimes that education did not force us to be so extremely
+benevolent and philanthropic over _mauvais sujets_; but it does.  Are
+you better?"
+
+"Yes," said North hastily; and his face being free from marks, he was
+able to confront his friend boldly.  "I knew there was no doctor within
+reach, and I was afraid the case might be turning serious.  Let's see."
+
+He walked up to the bed, with Tom Candlish quailing before him, and
+watching his eyes as some timid animal might when expecting capture or a
+blow.
+
+"I protest--I--"
+
+"Hold your tongue, sir," cried Salis sternly.  "Dr North is here for
+your good.  Lie still."
+
+"I don't know whether my way is right," he added to himself, "but
+firmness appears to be best with the brute."
+
+North seemed to hesitate a few minutes--fighting between routine, the
+desire to do what was right by the man he believed he had nearly killed,
+and his intense dislike, even hatred, of the scoundrel for whom he told
+himself he had been jilted by a wretched, shameless girl.
+
+Salis looked on curiously.
+
+"Effect of the power of the eye," he said to himself, as he saw North
+lay his hands upon the injured man's shoulders, and, bending down, gaze
+into his eyes for a few moments.  "By George!  Horace North is a big
+fellow in his profession, and I shall begin to believe in psychology,
+mesmerism, animal magnetism, and the rest of it, before I've done."
+
+He leaned forward to gaze intently at what was going on.
+
+"Quells him at once," he said to himself.  "Humph! he needn't be quite
+so rough."
+
+This was consequent upon a quick, brusque examination of the patient,
+which evidently gave Tom Candlish a great deal of pain.
+
+"Here, parson!" he yelled; "this man's--"
+
+He did not finish, for North's teeth grated together, and he tightened
+his grasp so firmly that Tom Candlish's head sank back, his battered
+face elongated, and he lay perfectly still, feeling quite at the mercy
+of his enemy.
+
+North ended his examination by literally thrusting Tom Candlish back
+upon his pillow in a way which made Salis stare.
+
+"He will not hurt, save to do plenty more mischief, Salis.  Look here;
+have you sent for Dr Benson?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said the butler wonderingly.
+
+"Your master will be all right till he comes.  Tell Dr Benson that I
+only came in upon the emergency.  I have nothing to do with the case."
+
+"Certainly, sir."
+
+"And," said North savagely, and evidently for Tom Candlish to hear, "if
+your master wishes to commit suicide, put that brandy decanter by his
+side.  He smells of it now like poison.  Come along, Salis."
+
+"You think him fit to be left?"
+
+"Fit to be left!" cried North, whose uneasy conscience was now at rest.
+"Here: come away."
+
+"Why, Horace, old man, this is not like you," cried Salis, as they were
+going down to the lodge gate.
+
+"Like me!" cried North, turning upon him with a searching look, and
+reading in his eyes his thorough ignorance of the state of affairs.
+"No, it is not, old boy.  I'm ill.  My head aches fit to split, and the
+sight of that man, now my nerves are on the rack, exasperates me."
+
+"Well, never mind.  It was very good of you to get up and come; but, all
+the same, I'm glad you did, for it has set my mind at rest as to danger.
+There's no danger--you are sure?"
+
+"Sure?  Yes.  He has the physique of a bull.  Curse him!"
+
+"Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!" roared Salis, laughing in the most undignified
+manner, and then raising his eyes to encounter the fierce gaze of his
+friend.
+
+"What are you laughing at?" cried North angrily.
+
+"At Tom Candlish--the noble Sir Thomas!  It's comic, now that I know
+there is no danger.  Why, Horace, old fellow, don't you know how it
+happened?"
+
+North paused as he stared wildly at Leo's brother.
+
+"Don't I know how it happened?" he faltered.
+
+"It's over some love affair, and the scoundrel has been caught."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Yes; that's it," cried Salis joyously.  "I don't know for certain, and
+this is confoundedly unclerical, but it's glorious.  The brute!  Some
+father or brother or lover has caught him, and thrashed him within an
+inch of his life.  My dear Horace, I don't know when I've felt so
+pleased."
+
+The doctor's face was a study of perplexity in its most condensed form.
+The injury to his head had tended to confuse him, so that he could not
+think clearly according to his wont, and he felt a longing to explain
+everything to, and confide in, his old friend; but he could not speak,
+for how could he tell him that his sister had been so base?  It must
+come from another, or Salis must find it out for himself; he could not
+speak.
+
+"I've talked to the fellow before," continued the curate.  "I've
+preached to him; I've preached at him; and all the time I've felt like a
+bee upon the back of a rhinoceros, hard at work blunting my sting.
+Stick, sir, stick is the only remedy for an ill like that of Squire Tom,
+and, by George!  Horace, he has had a tremendous dose."
+
+"Yes," said North, whose conscience felt more at ease now that he had
+satisfied himself as to the young man's state.
+
+"Did you see his eyes?" cried Salis, laughing again; "swollen up till
+they look like slits; and won't they be a glorious colour, too--eh,
+Horace, old fellow!  There, don't bully me for saying it, but you know
+what used to trouble me.  How I should like Leo to have her
+disenchantment completed.  I should have liked her to see the miserable
+brute as he is--battered and flushed with brandy."
+
+North started violently.
+
+"There, there, I ought not to have said it, but I'm speaking of my own
+sister, and of something of the past which you know all about.  How can
+girls be such idiots?"
+
+North did not speak, but walked swiftly on beside his friend, who,
+repenting of what he had said, and feeling that it had been in execrable
+taste, hastened to change the subject, so as to place the doctor at
+ease.
+
+"Did you hear this morning's news?" he said.
+
+"News?" said North, turning sharply.
+
+"No; of course you could not, being ill in bed, where you'd better go
+again.  Burglary, my boy.  We're getting on."
+
+"Burglary?"
+
+"Yes: sacrilegious burglary, sir.  One of those King's Hampton rascals--
+one of May's lambs--broke into the vestry last night."
+
+It was on North's lips to say furiously, "There, speak out, man!  If you
+know all about this, say so at once;" but the words seemed to halt
+there, and he only gazed wonderingly as Salis talked on in his easy,
+good-tempered way.
+
+"Moredock came up to tell me this morning."
+
+"Moredock?"
+
+"Yes; we were to have had the vestry meeting, you know."
+
+"Of course: I said I was too ill to come," said North hoarsely.
+
+"So you are.  Well, the old fellow went up to dust and put the place
+straight, and he found that some one had broken in by the window, and
+had evidently been interrupted, for my gown was torn down and thrown on
+the floor, and they had carried off my new surplice."
+
+"Carried off your surplice!" stammered North.
+
+"Yes," said the curate, looking at his friend wonderingly, and thinking
+how ill he seemed.  "Nearly new surplice, sir; and I shall have to come
+round _in forma pauperis_ for subscriptions to get another.  You will
+have to fund up among the rest, if you don't want to see your poor
+parson in rags, or sister Mary working her poor little fingers to the
+bone to keep the old one darned.  Ah! here we are."
+
+The curate uttered a sigh of relief, for he had been chattering away
+with a purpose--to keep his friend's attention from his state, for, as
+he held his arm, he could feel him reel from time to time.
+
+"Thank Heaven!" muttered North, as he staggered in at the gates of the
+Manor.  "Good-bye, Salis, good-bye."
+
+"Yes, I'll say good-bye presently, old chap.  It's no use disguising the
+fact.  You're ill, and ought not to have come out.  I shall see you to
+bed, and you must tell me what to do."
+
+"No, no; I can manage," protested North.
+
+But Salis would not go.
+
+"My dear boy, it's of no use.  You know how obstinate I am.  I should
+stop with you if it were small-pox, so just hold your tongue.  Hah!  Now
+Mrs Milt, the doctor's got his turn after laughing at us poor mortals
+so long.  Let's get him to bed, and you must help me to keep him there."
+
+"I'm not a bit surprised," began Mrs Milt, in a vinegary, snappish way;
+and then the tears started to her eyes, and she caught North's hand in
+hers and kissed it.  "Oh, my poor, dear master!" she sobbed.
+
+It was all momentary.  The spasm passed off, and in a busy, tender,
+matter-of-fact way, she helped the half-delirious man to bed, when,
+acting upon a hint or two he gave, the old housekeeper and Salis laid
+their heads together to prescribe.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XX.
+
+A PARCEL BY CARRIER.
+
+Dr Benson drove over daily from King's Hampton to attend Sir Thomas
+Candlish, and, to do Dr Benson justice, he made a very good
+professional job of the injury to the young baronet, both from his own
+and the ordinary point of view.
+
+Tom Candlish protested, but the doctor was inexorable.
+
+"No, sir," he said, "injuries like yours require time.  Nature must be
+able to thoroughly mend the damage done.  I could have helped her to
+patch you up--to cobble you, so to speak; but the tender spot would
+break out again.  I must do my work thoroughly."
+
+"But your drives over here--your bill will be monstrous."
+
+"Large, but not monstrous, my dear sir," said Dr Benson, smiling; "and
+what are a few pounds compared to your valuable life?"
+
+Tom Candlish lay thinking that there was something in this, and that it
+was far better to pay even a hundred pounds than to have been carried to
+the Candlish mausoleum, and without paying out North for the injuries he
+had received.
+
+"How's North?" he said.
+
+"Oh, very well, I believe.  Dr North and I do not meet very often.  A
+clever young man, though--a very clever young man."
+
+"Humph!  Don't believe in him," said Tom Candlish.  "But he has been
+very ill."
+
+"Little touch of sunstroke, or something of that kind, sir.  I saw his
+patients for two days only; then he was about again."
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated Tom Candlish.  "Doctor, I'm low to-day; I must have
+some champagne."
+
+"My dear sir! out of the question."
+
+"Brandy, then!"
+
+"Worse and worse."
+
+"But I'm sinking.  This cursed low feeling is horrible."
+
+"Well, well!" said the doctor smoothly, as, after a moment's
+consideration, he felt that the wine would only throw his patient back
+for a few days, and give him a longer period for attendance; "perhaps a
+drop--say, half a glass--would not hurt you, but I would not exceed half
+a glass; champagne glass, mind.  Good morning."
+
+Dr Benson took his departure, perfectly aware that the young baronet
+would be exceedingly ill the next morning; and so he was, for Tom
+Candlish had a medical sanction for taking a little champagne; and the
+butler produced the bottle--one of many dozens laid in by Squire Luke,
+who had purchased them through a friend as a special brand.
+
+It was a special brand of paraffin quality, well doctored with Hambro'
+spirit; and as, after the first glass, Tom Candlish argued that the rest
+would be wasted or drunk by the servants, an opened bottle of the
+effervescent wine being useless if not utilised at once, he, in spite of
+the protestations of the butler, finished the bottle, and threw himself
+back for another week.
+
+At the Rectory, matters had settled down somewhat, the hours gliding by
+without any discovery being made; and, after the first excitement and
+dread, Leo began to feel that she would soon be able to resume her
+meetings with her lover.
+
+North had ceased to call at the Rectory, and they had not yet come face
+to face.  But this troubled Leo less and less.  As the days had passed
+on, and the _eclaircissement_ had halted, so had her strength of mind
+and feeling of defiance increased.
+
+"He dare not face me after his brutal treatment of poor Tom," she had
+said; "and he knows the contempt in which I hold him.  He cannot be so
+pitiful as to tell Hartley, intimate as he and my brother are.  I have
+nothing to fear."
+
+She feared, though, all the same, though she did not know from whence
+the stroke she anticipated would fall.  Dally was extremely pert, but
+then she always had been.  She could know nothing; and in a defiant
+spirit, Leo settled herself down in a fool's paradise, eagerly waiting
+for the recovery of the squire.
+
+The one policeman from King's Hampton had been over and discoursed with
+the one policeman of Duke's Hampton _re_ the sacrilege at the church,
+and they had taken into their counsel the one policeman stationed at
+Chidley Beauwells, a village five miles away, but they had made nothing
+out of that.  There was the attack, though, upon the squire, which
+seemed very promising, and the trio waited upon him as soon as he was
+pronounced well enough to be seen.
+
+The injury must have had an acerbating effect upon Tom Candlish, for, to
+use the constables' words, they came down out of the bedroom with fleas
+in their ears; and after having a horn of ale apiece, went back to the
+village.
+
+Their way was by the churchyard, where Moredock was sunning himself by
+leaning over the wall, so that the heat could play well upon his back,
+and he entered into conversation with the three myrmidons of the law in
+a questioning spirit.
+
+"Wouldn't give you any information, would he?"
+
+"No," said he of King's Hampton.  "Told us to go to--you know."
+
+"No, I don't," said Moredock grimly, as if the allusion to this
+knowledge at his time of life was unsavoury.  "But why wouldn't he tell
+you?  Don't he want who it was caught?"
+
+"Said it was nothing of the kind," said he of Chidley Beauwells.
+
+"Yes," said the Duke's Hampton man; "said it was an accident, old boy--a
+fall."
+
+"Hi!  Yes.  I s'pose it would be," said Moredock drily.  "Squire had a
+nasty accident before--a fall.  Some people do have accidents of that
+sort."
+
+"Well," said the Duke's Hampton policeman, "we've done our duty, and
+that's enough for us."
+
+"Ay," said Moredock.  "You've done your dooty, and that's enough for
+you."
+
+They parted, and Moredock chuckled.
+
+"Bats is nothing and moles is telescopes to 'em.  Uniforms seems to make
+constables blind.  Well, all the better for me.  Hallo! where's carrier
+going to-day?  Doctor's, p'raps, with some new stuff."
+
+The carrier was, however, not going to the doctor's, but passed on.
+
+"Don't quite know what to make of him," muttered Moredock.  "That crack
+o' the head don't seem to have healed up, for he looks queer sometimes.
+I don't like the look of things, somehow; but we shall see--we shall
+see.  Why don't Dally come down, too?  I wanted to know how things is
+going there, and she ought to ha' got that shirt made by now.
+
+"Hi! hi! hi!" the old man laughed.  "Make me two noo best shirts o' fine
+linen as a man may be proud on.  Ill wind as blows nobody any good."
+
+The old man went chuckling away, as he thought over the two new Sunday
+shirts he was to have made out of the surplice, which, after unpicking
+and cutting off edgings, he had washed and dried and handed as so much
+new material to Dally to make up, long immunity from detection having
+made him daring enough to trust the linen to the very place that, to an
+ordinary observer, would have seemed most dangerous.
+
+But the shirts were not made yet, for Dally had declared it to be all
+bother, and had put the roll of linen in her drawer, inspired by a
+feeling that gran'fa couldn't live much longer, and then the linen would
+do for her.
+
+Oddly enough, as Moredock mused upon the whiteness and coolness of the
+coming undergarments, the carrier stopped at the Rectory gate, and
+delivered a parcel, carriage paid by North Midland Railway to King's
+Hampton station, but sixpence to pay for the ten miles by cart.
+
+"Dear me!" said Salis, turning over the package, which was evidently a
+box done up in very stout brown paper.  "`The Reverend Hartley Salis,
+Duke's Hampton Rectory, Warwickshire.  By N.M. Rail and Thompson,
+carrier.  Carriage paid to King's Hampton.'  Well, that's plain enough,
+Mary."
+
+"Yes, dear; it's evidently for you."
+
+"Yes, evidently for me; eh, Leo?"
+
+"Yes," said Leo, looking up from her book for a moment, and dropping her
+eyes again without displaying any further interest.
+
+"It's very curious," said Salis, rather excitedly.  "`From Irish and
+Lawn, robe makers, Southampton Street.'  Why, surely--bless my soul, I
+never sent.  I--"
+
+He busily cut the string, and opened the paper and the neatly-tied box
+within, to find, as, after reading the label, he had expected, that the
+contents consisted of a new surplice of the finest quality with a note
+pinned thereto, and written within, in a tremulous, disguised hand:
+
+"From an admirer."
+
+The word "admirer" had been lightly scratched across, and "constant
+attendant" placed above.
+
+Salis looked at the note, and then at his sister Mary, colouring with
+excitement as ingenuously as a girl.
+
+"Why, Mary," he said, "who could have sent this?  Do you know?"
+
+Mary shook her head, but her eyes brightened with pleasure, as she felt
+how gratified her brother would be.
+
+"Did not you and Leo contrive this as a surprise?"
+
+Mary shook her head again, and Leo looked up languidly.
+
+"What is it?" she said.  "A present?  No," she added, with a frown, as
+she saw what it was, and lowered her eyes to her book to read apparently
+with great interest.
+
+"Then it must be one of North's tricks," cried Salis.  "It's very kind
+and thoughtful of him, but I cannot think of letting him give me such a
+present as this.  Look, Mary, dear.  It is his writing disguised, is it
+not?"
+
+Mary's hand trembled a little as she took the note and glanced at it, to
+detect the writer at once from a peculiarity which had not been
+concealed.
+
+"Well," cried Salis, "I am right?"
+
+Mary shook her head again.
+
+"No, Hartley, it is certainly not Mr North's writing."
+
+"Then, in the name of all that's wonderful, whose is it?  The people
+would not subscribe for it.  Besides, it says `from a constant
+attendant.'  Why, good heavens! it cannot be from--"
+
+Mary glanced at Leo, who was intent upon her reading, and then looked
+back at her brother, with a half-mischievous and amused smile, as she
+nodded her head.
+
+"You think so, too," he exclaimed, in a whisper.  "Oh!"
+
+There was a look of trouble and perplexity in his face that was
+intensely droll, for, though no name had been mentioned, both had hit
+upon the donor; and as the trouble deepened in the curate's face, Mary
+stretched out her hand to him, and he took it, and sat down by her side.
+
+"It's impossible," he whispered.  "I could not think of taking it.  How
+could she be so foolish?"
+
+"It seems cruel to call it foolish," said Mary gently.  "The idea was
+prompted by a very kindly feeling."
+
+"Of course, of course; but, my dear Mary, it is putting me in a false
+position."
+
+"Not if you treat it as an anonymous gift."
+
+"How can I, when I feel certain that she sent it?"
+
+"But even if you are, I think you might keep it, Hartley.  See how
+common it is for ladies of a congregation to present the curate with
+slippers or braces."
+
+"Yes," said Salis drily; "and all out of gratitude to their spiritual
+teacher.  Bless 'em, they throw their gifts, and the weak man thinks
+they are bladders to enable him to float lightly along the social
+current of air, when, lo! and behold, he finds, poor weak, fluttering
+butterfly, that one of the fair naturalists has stuck a pin through him,
+right into the cork, and he is `set up' for life."
+
+"Nonsense, you vain coxcomb!"
+
+"No, my dear Mary, I am not a vain man; but I can generally tell which
+way the wind blows.  I have a certain duty to perform in connection with
+my two sisters--a sort of paternal role to play, and consequently I am
+rather afraid of Mrs Berens."
+
+"Hartley, dear!"
+
+"Yes, Mary.  This surplice is going to be paid for by H. Salis, clerk in
+holy orders, ill as he can afford to do it, or it is going back to the
+donor."
+
+"But what can she do with it if your idea is correct?"
+
+"Cut it up to make little garments for the poor children, if she likes.
+Bother the woman: I wish she would go."
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XXI.
+
+DR NORTH IS STARTLED.
+
+"You puzzle me, doctor," said Moredock; "you do, indeed.  I've been
+a-going to church all my life, and I've listened to hundreds o' sarmons,
+and I know all about the Good Samaritan and duty towards your neighbour;
+but how, after what happened, you could tie him up and sticking-plaster
+him, and then go next mornin' to see how he was, caps me."
+
+"Never mind about that, Moredock," said North quickly, and looking
+restlessly about the cottage interior.  "I think we may feel satisfied
+he did not revive while he was in the mausoleum."
+
+"Not he.  I thought he was never going to 'vive any more.  So you mean
+to go there again?"
+
+"Yes, Moredock--yes," said North, with his eyes moving wildly round.  "I
+must go on now.  I have lost too much time as it is."
+
+"All right, doctor.  If you say as we'll go, that's enough."
+
+"You feel convinced that no one has observed us?"
+
+"Yes, I'm convinced, as you call it, of that, doctor.  I've kept the
+secret too well.  And so you mean to go again?"
+
+"Go again, man!  Yes.  Did I not tell you so?" cried North, with an
+angry excitement in his voice.  "Yes, to-night."
+
+"To-night, eh?  Very well, doctor.  I'll be there; but you'll take a
+drop o' that cordle with you.  There won't be no need for me to watch
+the vestry to-night."
+
+North made an impatient gesture, and walked to the door as if to go, but
+turned sharply, and walked back to where the sexton was seated smoking.
+
+"What was it you said?" he asked, in an absent way.
+
+"What did I ask, doctor?"
+
+"Yes, yes, man," cried North impatiently, as he kept glancing towards
+the door.
+
+"Oh, 'bout that there cordle, doctor.  I haven't been quite right since
+that night, and I thought a drop or two might do me good, and--"
+
+Moredock stopped in the middle of his sentence, and sat staring, for
+North had suddenly turned and walked straight out of the place.
+
+"Doctor's not got over his tumble that night," muttered the old man.
+"He's shook, that's what's the matter with him; and he haven't got his
+thinking tackle quite put right again.  It's worried him, too, about
+that there gel.  Well, she won't come to the vestry to-night, and
+there's no fear o' Squire Tom coming, for he won't be out o' bed, they
+say, for days.  Miss won't want to go and sit there all by herself
+wi'out she thinks as the doctor would do now.  A baggage!--that's what
+she is--a baggage! and looking all the time so smooth and good.  Wonder
+what parson would say if he knowed of her goings on?"
+
+The old man sat musing and smoking for an hour, and then, by way of
+preparation for his night work, he let his head go down upon his chest,
+and sat sleeping in front of his fire for hours.
+
+As the evening wore on, Joe Chegg came sauntering by, and then returned,
+so as to get a casual glance in at the window.  Then he had another, and
+satisfied at last that the old man was fast asleep, he stood watching
+him till he saw by the failing fire that the sleeper was about to
+awaken, when he drew back, and softly and thoughtfully went away.
+
+Just before twelve the old man took his lanthorn, went to the door, and
+looked out; stood for a while, and then, with an activity not to be
+expected of one of his years, he walked sharply and silently in the
+direction of the churchyard, keeping a keen lookout for interlopers.
+But his walk beneath the glittering stars was uninterrupted, and he made
+his way silently to the back of the church, looked about him, and,
+seeing no one, unlocked the iron gate and the mausoleum door, and then
+turned to wait.
+
+But as he turned, he started, for a hand was laid upon his shoulder.
+
+"Why, doctor, I didn't hear you come."
+
+"I was sitting there waiting," said North.  "Quick!"
+
+He pressed the door, and looked right into the dark place, where he had
+not been since Tom Candlish was lifted out and placed by the roadside on
+the night of the encounter; while now it seemed to the sexton that his
+companion was beset by a feverish energy and desire to continue his
+task.
+
+"All right, doctor--all right!  Wait till I get a light," grumbled the
+old man, after he had closed the door.  "That's it.  There you are.
+Brought the cordle?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You won't want me, and I'm a bit tired and wearied out to-night.  Ha,
+that's it!  Good stuff, doctor.  Thankye, doctor.  Hah-h-h!"
+
+He tossed off the potent dram that was handed to him, and gave back the
+silver cup, which fitted upon the end of the doctor's little flask.
+Then, quite as a matter of habit, he went to the ledge where he had so
+often sat, and, after muttering for a few minutes, fell off into an easy
+sleep.
+
+North had stood motionless after lighting his shaded lamp, evidently
+deep in thought; but a heavy breathing from the corner of the solemn
+place roused him, and he lifted the lanthorn, crossed to the sleeper,
+and held the light to his face.
+
+"Asleep!" he muttered, returning to the great stone slab, and setting
+down the light.  "What's that?" he cried sharply; and, starting back, he
+looked wildly about the place.
+
+"How absurd!" he muttered, after satisfying himself that they were
+alone.  "Want of sleep.  My nerves are shaken, and this incessant pain
+seems too much for me.  But I will succeed.  She shall see my success,
+and learn that I am not a man to be cast aside and crushed by her.  Yes,
+I will succeed.  It cannot be too late."
+
+He seized the white sheet that covered the subject of his study, but
+instead of drawing it gently aside, as was his wont, he gave it a sharp
+snatch, lifted the lamp, and gazed down, thinking of what steps he
+should take next.
+
+"So many days since," he muttered; "so many days.  It cannot be too
+late.  Now to make up for lost time."
+
+He turned up his cuffs, took a small bottle from where it stood upon the
+slab, and was in the act of removing the stopper, when he uttered a cry
+of horror, and darted towards the door, dropping the bottle upon the
+sawdust which covered the stone floor, as he clapped his hands to his
+face, and then reeled against the wall, to stand clinging to the
+stone-work of one of the niches.
+
+There was a light there on the stone slab, but it was as nothing to the
+light which had flashed in, as it were, to his brain; for he had come
+there that night to finish his task, and it was as though that task were
+already complete, and that which he had been waiting to achieve was
+ready to his hand, but in a way which he had never anticipated, and the
+revelation seemed more than he could bear.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XXII.
+
+SOMETHING COMING ON.
+
+Horace North stood in the old mausoleum for a while, appalled by the
+thoughts that flooded his soul.  The silence was awful.  At other times,
+wrapped up in his pursuit, the presence of the dead had been as nothing
+to him; the fact that he was surrounded by the grisly relics of
+generations of the Candlishes had not troubled him in the least.  There
+was a professional air about everything he did, and he watched results
+with the keen eagerness that a chemist watches his experiments.
+
+But now, all at once, a change seemed to have come over him.  He had
+lost the spur given to him by his love for Leo; but, after fighting hard
+with his misery, he had conquered, and forced himself to go on with his
+task solely in the cause of science, and a strange awakening had been
+the result.
+
+He had brought all the knowledge he could collect to bear upon his task,
+and had reached a certain point.  Then he had been checked, and the
+whole of his work had been thrown out of gear; so that now, when he had
+taken it up again, feverishly determined to carry it on to the end, he
+found himself face to face with a horror which at first his mind could
+hardly conceive.
+
+He stood listening, and for a time it seemed that he was alone--that
+Moredock had been overcome by the close he had administered; but by
+degrees his stunned senses took in the fact that the old man was
+breathing calmly and peacefully, and that he was not alone with the
+appalling thought which troubled him.
+
+"I ought not to have gone on with it now," he said, at last.  "I am
+mentally and bodily shaken, and unfit to undertake such a task.  I'm
+ready to imagine all manner of follies--weak as a frightened child.  How
+idiotic to fancy that!"
+
+For the time being his mental strength was _in statu quo_, and, striding
+forward, he made up his mind to clear away the apparatus of instruments
+and chemicals, rouse up Moredock to help restore everything to its
+normal state, and continue his experiment when a fresh opportunity
+occurred.
+
+He glanced down at the uncovered body, and then, turning to his various
+preparations, he replaced instruments in cases, bottles in the black
+bag, and nothing now remained to do but to lay Luke Candlish where he
+might continue his long sleep with his fathers.
+
+"Poor wretch!" muttered North; "if that miserable interruption had not
+taken place, you might have been the means of doing more good to
+posterity than all your predecessors could have achieved had they lived
+on right until now.
+
+"Yes," he continued, as he made a final examination previous to
+awakening Moredock, "I had succeeded up to then.  Decay was arrested,
+and Nature seemed to be working on my side to prove that I was right.
+Now I must begin again, for it is as if I had done nothing.  No, no; the
+toil has not been thrown away.  I have learned more than I think for; I
+have--"
+
+He shrank back, and looked sharply round, as if puzzled.  He turned his
+gaze upon the sleeping figure before him, and saw only too plainly that
+the decay he had held at defiance for a time had now definitely set in,
+and yet how he could not tell, for mentally all seemed misty and
+obscure.  Something seemed to suggest that after all he had arrested the
+progress of death.
+
+"Pish!  What strange fancy is upon me now?" he exclaimed angrily.
+
+But even as he said this in a low whisper, he felt a consciousness that
+in some manner his work had not been in vain.  There before him, surely
+enough, lay the remains of Luke Candlish, passing back into the elements
+of which they were composed--ashes to ashes, dust to dust; but the man
+did not seem to him to be dead.  There was a feeling almost like
+oppression troubling him and making him feel that he had succeeded--that
+he had stayed the flight of the hale, strong man, but not wholly; that
+his work had partially been successful, and that had he continued, a
+complete triumph would have been the result.
+
+"Absurd!" he muttered, jerking the cloth over the subject of his
+experiment, and going towards Moredock, but only to spin round, as if he
+had been arrested by a hand clapped suddenly upon his shoulder.
+
+He stared sharply round the vault again and then laughed aloud.
+
+"How childish!" he exclaimed.  "Well, no," he added thoughtfully; "it is
+a lesson worth learning how, under certain circumstances connected with
+violence and terrible mental distress, the brain acts as in a case of
+_delirium tremens_.  I was not fit to come here to-night.  Better
+finish, go home, and sleep--and forget," he added softly, "if I can.
+
+"I must be going mad," he exclaimed the next moment; and, making an
+effort over himself, he sat down upon the edge of the stone slab to try
+and think out consistently the mental trouble which kept attacking him.
+
+"It cannot be that," he said, at last.  "I am perfectly cool and
+consistent; I know everything about me.  I can go right back through my
+experiments to the beginning, analyse every thought and feeling, and yet
+I cannot master this idea."
+
+He sat thinking and gazing at the body by his side, with its form
+grotesquely marked through the covering sheet.
+
+"It is getting the better of me," he said aloud, "and I must not give
+way.  Lunacy is often the development of one idea, while, in other
+respects, the patient is _compos mentis_.  No, no; a lunatic could not
+feel as I do.  I am too calm and self-contained, and yet here it is.
+Great Heaven! is it possible that I could have arrested the ethereal,
+the spiritual, part of this man--have retained his essence here, while
+the body is going back to decay?"
+
+He stood staring down at the slab from which he had started, his eyes
+dilated, and a wild look of horror in his countenance, till once more
+the teachings of his scientific education combined with the man's strong
+common-sense to bring calm matter-of-fact reasoning to bear.
+
+"Yes," he said, "it's time I went home to bed; and to-morrow I'll ask
+old Benson to come over and look after my patients while I go to the
+seaside and look after myself.  I want bodily and mental rest.  Here,
+old chap, wake up!"
+
+Moredock started to his feet and stared at the doctor, for he had been
+rudely awakened by a heavy slap on the back, while North in turn shrank
+back and stared at the sexton, as if astounded at what had taken place--
+an act so foreign to his ordinary way.
+
+"You shouldn't do that, doctor," grumbled the old man, rubbing his
+shoulder in a testy way.  "Works is a bit shaky, and you jar 'em up."
+
+"I--I beg your pardon, Moredock," stammered North confusedly.
+
+"Oh, it don't matter much, doctor, only I was in a beautiful sleep, and
+dreaming I'd gone to see my Dally as was living in a great house--quite
+the lady, and the man going to give me a glass o' something when you hit
+me on the back and woke me.  Done?"
+
+"Yes.  Help me," said North hastily.  "The experiment is at an end."
+
+"Well, I arn't sorry, doctor.  I arn't sorry for some things.  Hey! but
+you have been busy clearing up.  Quite done, then?"
+
+"Yes, quite done.  We'll leave everything as it should be to-night."
+
+"Mornin', you mean, doctor.  Well, all right."
+
+The ghastly task was quickly performed, the old man displaying a
+surprising activity as he replaced the ornamental coffin-lid and screws,
+after which the place seemed to have resumed its former state.
+
+"No one won't come to see whether the lead coffin's soddered down, eh,
+doctor?" chuckled the old man, after giving the heavy casket a final
+thrust with his shoulder to get it exactly in its place.  "They don't do
+that only when the coroner's set to work, and people think there's been
+poisoning."
+
+"No, old chap," cried North, slapping the sexton on the shoulder in a
+jocular way.  "Here, have a drop of brandy.  After me; I'd rather drink
+first."
+
+Moredock stared again as the doctor produced a second flask from his
+pocket, poured some spirit gurgling out into the flattened silver cup,
+and tossed it off.
+
+"That's good brandy, old man.  Stunning.  Here you are."
+
+"Doctor's glad he's finished his job," laughed the sexton.  "No wonder.
+I wouldn't ha' been a patticary for no money.  Thankye, sir.  Hah!
+that's good stuff.  That goes into your finger-ends; but that other
+stuff's best: goes right to the roots of your hair and into your toes.
+Rare stuff; good brandy."
+
+"Yes, you old toper," cried North; and then he seemed to drag his hand
+down just as he was raising it to slap the old man once more upon the
+shoulder.
+
+"Toper, eh, doctor?  No; I like a drop now and then, just to do a man
+good.  He was a toper--Squire Luke, yonder."
+
+"Yes," said North slowly, as he poured out some more brandy and tossed
+it off.  "The poor fellow used to drink."
+
+"Hi--hi--hi!" chuckled Moredock.  "Yes; they say he used to drink,
+doctor.  Job's done, eh?"
+
+He stared hard at the flask, and in so peculiar a manner that North
+poured out some more.
+
+"Here, have another drop, old chap," he cried; "it'll warm you up."
+
+"Thankye, doctor, thankye.  Hah! yes; it's good stuff.  Does you good
+too.  Makes you cheery like, and free.  Why, doctor, I didn't know you
+could be so hearty; you keep a man like me a long ways off in general.
+What's the matter--not well?"
+
+"Eh?" said North, speaking strangely.  "I'm not well, Moredock.  I'll
+get out of this stifling place."
+
+"Stifling?  Nay, it's not stifling; you only say so because you're done.
+Here, let me carry the tool bag, as you may say."
+
+The bag was heavy, for packed within it was the lamp as well as the
+doctor's bottles, and such instruments as he had not put in his pocket.
+
+"Looks precious queer," muttered the old man, going to and unfastening
+the door.
+
+"Ready, sir?"
+
+North did not answer, but followed the sexton, after a hurried glance
+round.
+
+"It's all right, sir; nothing left," muttered Moredock, extinguishing
+the candle in his lanthorn.  "Why, any one would think he was growing
+skeered.  Brandy upsets some, and does others good."
+
+The old man closed the massive door of the mausoleum, and locked the
+gates of the iron railing, and as he did so, North uttered a low sigh
+full of relief, as if with the shutting up of the grim receptacle
+certain troublous feelings had been dismissed, and a strange haunting
+sensation had gone.
+
+"S'pose you'd like me to take the bag on to my place, doctor, and bring
+it up to the Manor House to-night?"
+
+"Yes, I should," said North hastily; "I'll talk to you then, Moredock.
+I'll--"
+
+He shuddered, and in place of parting at once from the old man, he kept
+close to his side, and followed him into his cottage, where he sat down
+while the old sexton drew the thin curtain over the casement and struck
+a light.
+
+"Why, doctor," he said, looking wonderingly at the white, scared face
+before him; "you'd better go home and mix yourself a dose.  You've got
+something coming on."
+
+"Yes," said North, with a ghastly smile; "I'm afraid I have something
+coming on.  No--no!  Nonsense!  I'm tired.  Not quite got over my fall.
+I shall be better soon."
+
+The old sexton shook his head and went to his locked-up chest, in which,
+with a good deal of rattling of keys, he deposited the doctor's bag.  He
+was in the act of shutting the heavy lid, when something made him turn
+to where he had left his companion seated, and he stared in amazement,
+for the chair was tenantless!
+
+He had not heard North start from his seat and literally rush out of the
+cottage, as if pursued by some invisible force.
+
+Volume 2, Chapter XXIII.
+
+"MY DEAR NORTH!"
+
+"No, sir, he isn't at home," said Mrs Milt, trying to smile at the
+curate, but only succeeding in producing two icy wrinkles--one on either
+side of her lips.  "Some one ill, Mrs Milt?"
+
+"Well, really, sir, I can't say.  Master shut himself in his study last
+thing--as he will persist in ruining his health and his pocket in lamps
+and candles--and I went to bed as usual, although mortally in dread of
+fire, for master is so careless with a light.  Then I s'pose some one
+must have come in the night and fetched him.  His breakfast has been
+waiting hours, and--oh, here he comes!"
+
+For at that moment North came round the end of the house, having entered
+his garden right at the bottom by the meadow, his dew-wet boots and the
+dust upon his trousers showing that he must have been walking far.
+
+"Breakfast's quite ready, sir," said Mrs Milt austerely, as soon as
+North came within hearing.
+
+"Yes--yes," he said impatiently, as he waved her away.  "Ah, Salis!
+Come in."
+
+"Why, how fagged you look!  Who is ill?"
+
+"Ill?  Who is ill?" said North wonderingly.  "Oh, I see!  Well, I am."
+
+"Yes, that's plain enough," said Salis anxiously.  "My dear fellow, you
+are not at all up to the mark."
+
+"Not up to the mark, old chap?  Right as the mail!  Here, come in, and
+have some breakfast."
+
+This was said with so much boisterous, coarse jollity, that the curate
+could not help a wondering look.  North saw it, and his countenance
+assumed a look of intense pain.
+
+"Did you want me?" he said, closing the breakfast-room door, and
+speaking in a different tone entirely.
+
+"Well, old fellow, I thought I'd run over just to consult you."
+
+"Not ill?" said North, in a voice full of anxiety, but only to
+supplement it with a sharp, back-handed blow in the chest, and exclaim,
+in quite a rollicking way: "See! you!  I say, you're in tip-top
+condition!"  And then he burst into a hearty roar.
+
+"I don't know about tip-top condition," said Salis tartly, "for I'm not
+at all well.  I'm a good deal bothered, old fellow, about--about some
+matters; and you'll not mind my coming to see you about things that one
+would not go to a doctor about, but to a friend."
+
+"I am very, very glad to have you come to me as a friend, Salis," said
+North earnestly.  "Anything I can do I--is it money?"
+
+"Money?  Tut--tut!  No!  When did you ever know me a borrower, man?  I
+beg your pardon, North," he added, beaming at his friend.  "That's just
+like you--so good and thoughtful; but no, no--no money!  Old Polonius
+was right."
+
+Just then Mrs Milt entered with the coffee, toast, and a covered dish,
+a second cup and saucer being on her tray.
+
+"Well, yes; I'll have another cup," said Salis, smiling and nodding;
+and, directly after, the old friends were seated together opposite to
+each other, but with North leaving his breakfast untasted, while Salis
+seemed to enjoy his number two.
+
+"You're not eating, old fellow!  I say, you know you're ill.  It's my
+turn now to prescribe."
+
+"Only a little feverish.  I have been and had a long walk."
+
+"Ah, that's right.  Nature is splendid for that sort of thing."
+
+"Yes," said North quickly.  "Now, what can I do for you?"
+
+He winced as he spoke, for he expected to hear something about Leo.
+
+"Well, the fact is, old fellow, you know that my surplice was stolen."
+
+North shrank again, but nodded sharply.
+
+"Well, old fellow, I banteringly said something about the loss being
+severe to a poor man."
+
+"I--I wish I had known," said North, with a frank smile.
+
+"You mean if you had you would have given me one."
+
+"Yes, that is what I mean," said North.
+
+"And if you had, I'd have cut you, sir, dead!  Sure it was not you?"
+
+"Not me?"
+
+"Who sent me a present of a remarkably fine new surplice."
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"Then it was she."
+
+"I do not understand you."
+
+"Look here! there is only one person who could have sent such a present,
+and it must be Mrs Berens."
+
+"Ah, you sly dog!  Oh, shame! shame!  Ha--ha--ha!" roared North.  "The
+pretty widow--eh?  That's pulse-feeling, and putting out the tongue, and
+how are we this morning!  Ha--ha--ha!"
+
+Hartley Salis had a small piece of broiled ham upon his fork, being a
+man of excellent appetite; and at his friend's first words, uttered in a
+most singular tone, he let the fork drop with a clatter, pushed his
+chair a little way back, and stared!
+
+"I--I'm very sorry," faltered North, in a most penitent tone.
+
+"My dear North!  Why, what is the matter with you?"
+
+"A little--er--feverish, I think; that is all!"
+
+"One is not used to hear such outbursts from you, old fellow," said
+Salis; and there was a tinge of annoyance in his tone.
+
+"Pray, pray go on.  I--er--hardly know what I said."
+
+Salis drew his chair up again, picked up the fork, raised the piece of
+brown ham once, set it down, and then took up his cup and sipped the
+coffee, with his face resuming its unruffled aspect.
+
+"I'm not cross, old fellow--only nettly.  It's so unlike you to attempt
+to--well, to use our old term--chaff me.  Besides which, this thing is a
+great source of annoyance to me.  I feel as if I cannot accept the
+present--as if it laid me under an obligation to Mrs Berens; and,
+really, I should be glad to have your advice.  What would you do?"
+
+"What would I do?" cried North, in a coarse, rasping voice.  "Why, you
+know what you want me to say.  Get out, you jolly old humbug!"
+
+"Sir!"
+
+"Go along with you!  What are you to do with the surplice?  Why, wear
+it, and lend it to old May afterwards when he comes down to marry you
+and the pretty widow."
+
+"Horace North!" cried the curate indignantly.
+
+"Sit down, and none of your gammon, you transparent old humbug!  Why, I
+can see right through you, just as if you were so much glass."
+
+Salis had pushed back his chair, and now rose, just as North burst out
+passionately:
+
+"No, no, Salis; don't go--for pity's sake don't go.  I have so much to
+say to you."
+
+"If it is of a piece with what you have already said, Horace North, I
+would prefer to be ignorant of its import."
+
+The doctor had risen too, and caught the back of his chair, which he
+stood grasping with spasmodic force, as, suffering an agony he could not
+have expressed, he saw his friend stalk solemnly along the path to the
+great gate, which swung after him to and fro for some seconds before the
+iron latch closed with a loud click.
+
+"Heaven help me!--what shall I do?" groaned North, as he threw himself
+upon the couch, and covered his face with his hands.  "What does this
+mean?  What new horror is this?  Have I lost all power over thought and
+tongue?"
+
+"May I clear away, sir?" said a sharp, clear voice.
+
+North started as if he had been stung, but he did not uncover his face;
+and he dared not speak, lest words should gush forth for which he could
+not hold himself accountable--and to Mrs Milt!
+
+Under the circumstances, he nodded his head quickly, and lay back with
+his eyes closed.
+
+"You do too much, sir," said the housekeeper, speaking authoritatively.
+"You work too hard."
+
+North's irritability was terrible, but he kept it down.
+
+"It's my impression that you're going to be ill," continued Mrs Milt,
+as she went on clearing the table.
+
+Strange words seemed to be effervescing in Horace North's breast, and he
+set his teeth hard, for he felt that if he spoke he should say something
+which would horrify the old housekeeper and startle himself.
+
+"Well, you can't blame me," cried Mrs Milt, going out and shutting the
+door too sharply to be polite.
+
+North was alone, and he rose up with his hands clenched to utter words
+of wonder as to what his friend would think; but, instead, he burst into
+a curious fit of laughter and uttered a mocking curse.
+
+The next moment he had sunk back upon his couch with his hands clasped,
+as he gazed with bent head straight before him between his thick brows,
+right away into the future, and mentally asking himself what that future
+was to be.
+
+END OF VOLUME TWO.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter I.
+
+AN UNSUITABLE MESSENGER.
+
+"Hartley, you horrify me," said Mary, after she had listened to her
+brother's account of his visit.  "He must have been ill or under some
+strange influence."
+
+"Influence?" cried Salis drily; "well, that means drink, Mary."
+
+"Oh, no, no, no!" cried the poor girl warmly.  "He told you he was ill,
+and he may have been taking some very potent medicine."
+
+"Extremely," said Salis.
+
+"Hartley, for shame!" cried Mary, with her eyes flashing.  "You left
+here an hour ago full of faith and trust in the friend of many years'
+standing.  You find him ill and peculiar in his manner, and you come
+back here ready to think all manner of evil of him.  Is this just?"
+
+"But he was so very strange and peculiar, my child.  You cannot imagine
+how queer."
+
+"Hartley!" cried Mary warmly; "how can you!  Horace North must be very
+ill, and needs his friend's help.  Your account of his acts and words
+suggests delirium.  Go back to him at once."
+
+"Go back to him?"
+
+"Yes; at once.  Have you forgotten his goodness to us--how he snatched
+Leo back from the jaws of death?"
+
+"You think I ought to go, Mary?" said Salis dubiously.
+
+"I shall think my brother is under some strange influence--suffering
+from wounded pride--if he does not frankly go to our old friend's help."
+
+"I'll go back at once," cried Salis excitedly.  "Why, Mary, when you
+were active and strong, I always thought I had to teach and take care of
+you.  Now you are an invalid, you seem to teach and guide me."
+
+"No, no," said Mary tenderly.  "It is only that I lie here for many
+hours alone, thinking of what is best for us all.  Not yet, Hartley: I
+want to say something else."
+
+"Yes," he said, going down on one knee by her couch, and holding her
+hand; "what is it?"
+
+"I want to say a few words to you about Leo," said Mary, after a pause.
+
+"About Leo?" said Salis uneasily.
+
+"Yes, dear.  I tell you I lie here for many hours thinking about you
+both.  I want to speak about Leo and--Mr North."
+
+"Yes," said Salis gravely, as Leo's manner when the servant came from
+the Hall flashed upon his mind.  "What do you wish to say?"
+
+"Do you consider that there is any engagement between them?"
+
+"I hardly know what to say.  North seemed deeply attached to her."
+
+"Yes," said Mary; "but I have felt puzzled by his manner lately.  He has
+not been."
+
+"And he has not sent her flowers as he used."
+
+"No; I have noticed that.  Has Mr North felt that Leo has slighted him
+in any way."
+
+"Why, Mary," cried Salis excitedly, "what a brain you have!  My dear
+child, you have hit upon the cause of his strange manner.  You noticed--
+you noticed Leo's manner when the news came of Candlish's illness--for I
+suppose I must call it so."
+
+"Yes," said Mary, with a sigh.  "I noticed it."
+
+"And North must have seen something.  Mary, my girl, what shall I do?"
+
+"What shall you do?"
+
+"Yes; I am divided between my sister and my friend.  There!  I must
+speak out.  It would be the saving of Leo if she could become North's
+wife; and yet, much as I love her and wish for her happiness, I feel as
+if I am being unjust to North to let matters go farther."
+
+Mary lay back with her eyes half closed for some minutes before she felt
+that she could trust her voice so that it should not betray her.
+
+"It would be for Leo's happiness could she say truly that she could love
+and honour Horace North," Mary whispered at last; "but it will never be,
+Hartley.  Leo will never marry as we wish."
+
+"I'm afraid not," said Salis sadly; "and the more I think of it, the
+more it seems to me that you have hit upon North's trouble.  Leo's
+anxiety about that scoundrel has disgusted poor Horace.  What shall I
+do?"
+
+"Your friend is ill," said Mary sadly; "act as a friend should.  Leave
+the rest: we can do nothing there."
+
+"My poor darling!" said Salis, "you are the good angel of our little
+home.  There, I'll go to North at once."
+
+Meanwhile a conversation was going on in Leo's room.
+
+She had suffered intensely during the past few days, which had seemed to
+her like months of suspense and agony.  Every stroke at the door had
+seemed to be a visitor to expose her to her brother, or else she
+believed it was North coming to reproach her; and, though she told
+herself that she would be defiant and could tell him he was mad ever to
+have thought about her, she shivered at each step upon the gravel.
+
+The scene in the vestry had shaken her nerves terribly.  The news of Tom
+Candlish's serious injuries had added to her trouble; and, combined with
+this, there was the horrible suspense as to her lover's state.  In a
+way, she was a prisoner, and any attempt to hear news of the sufferer at
+the Hall would bring down upon her an angry reproof from her brother.
+
+After the news of his state, Tom Candlish's name was not mentioned at
+the Rectory.  She dared not ask or show by word or look the anxiety she
+felt, and yet there were times when she would have given years of her
+life for a few words of tidings.
+
+Unable to bear the suspense any longer, and after thinking of a dozen
+schemes, she at last decided upon one, which was the most unlucky she
+could have devised.
+
+It was the nearest to her hand, and, in quite a gambling spirit, she
+snatched at it recklessly.
+
+She was in her room, reading, when Dally entered.
+
+"Is my brother in?" she said quietly.  "Yes, miss; along with Miss Mary,
+talking."
+
+"Are you very busy, Dally?"
+
+"Yes, miss, 'most worked to death," said the girl tartly.
+
+"But a walk would do you good, Dally.  Would you take a note for me?"
+
+"Take a note, miss?" said Dally with her eyes twinkling; "oh, of course,
+miss!  I'll go and ask Miss Mary to let me go!"
+
+"No, no--stop, you foolish girl!" said Leo, with a half laugh.  "There,
+I'll be plain with you.  I don't want my sister to know.  You would take
+a letter for me to Mrs Berens, Dally?"
+
+"Master said I was never to take any notes for anybody," said Dally
+sharply.
+
+"But you will make an exception, Dally!  Take a note for me, and bring
+me an answer, and I will give you a sovereign."
+
+"To Mrs Berens, miss?"
+
+Leo looked at her meaningly, and the girl returned the gaze.
+
+"Very well, miss; I'll take it," she said.  "Must I go right to the
+Hall?"
+
+"Yes, Dally, this evening, and nobody must know.  Insist upon seeing him
+yourself, and bring me back an answer by word of mouth, if he cannot
+write."
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"Can I trust you?"
+
+"Trust me, miss?  Why, of course!" cried Dally, for Leo was giving her
+the opportunity she had sought.  For days past she had been trying to
+find some way of getting a word with Tom Candlish; but, so far, it had
+been impossible.  Now the way had been put into her hands.
+
+"Thankye, miss," she said, dropping a curtsy, as she slipped a long
+letter and a sovereign into her pocket.  "And if I don't settle your
+affair there, madam," she said to herself, "I don't know Tom Candlish,
+and he don't know quite what Dally Watlock can do when she's served like
+this."
+
+"Then I may trust you, Dally?" whispered Leo.
+
+"Trust me, miss?" said the girl, looking at her innocently; "why, of
+course you can."
+
+"To-night, then, after dark!"
+
+"Yes, miss, after dark; and if I'm asked for, you'll say you give me
+leave to go and see poor gran'fa, who isn't well."
+
+"Yes, Dally, I will."
+
+"And she's been to boarding school, and thinks herself clever," said
+Dally, as soon as she was alone.  "Go after dark, miss?  Yes, I will.
+They say people's soft when they're sick and weak.  Perhaps so.  Tom may
+be so now.  After dark!" she muttered with a little cough.  "Yes, miss;
+you may trust me!  I'll go after dark!"
+
+Volume 3, Chapter II.
+
+MRS BERENS IS WOUNDED.
+
+"Is anything the matter, Mrs Berens?"
+
+"Matter, my dear Mary?" said the lady, in a piteous voice.  "Oh, yes;
+but how beautiful and soft and patient you look!"
+
+She bent down and kissed the invalid, sighed, and wafted some scent
+about the room.
+
+"I'm a great deal worried, dear, about money matters, and--and other
+things."
+
+"Money, Mrs Berens?  I thought you were rich."
+
+"Not rich, dear, but well off.  But money is a great trouble; for Mr
+Thompson, my agent in London, worries me a great deal, investing and
+putting it for me somewhere else.  He says I am wasting my
+opportunities--that he could double my income; and when he comes down,
+really, my dear, his attentions are too marked for those of a
+solicitor."
+
+"Mr Thompson is a relative of Dr North, is he not?" said Mary gravely.
+
+"Yes; he asked Dr North to introduce him, and the doctor did," said
+Mrs Berens ruefully.  "But it was not about the money; it was about Dr
+North himself I came to speak."
+
+"Indeed!" said Mary, with a faint tinge of colour showing.
+
+"Yes, my dear; and I don't want you to think me a busybody, but I could
+not help noticing that he seemed attached to Leo; and it is troubling me
+for Leo's sake."
+
+"Will you speak plainly, Mrs Berens?"
+
+"Yes, dear; but you frighten me--you are so severe.  There!  I will
+speak out!  Leo is engaged to Dr North, is she not?"
+
+"No," said Mary, after a pause; "there is no engagement."
+
+"Ah, then that makes it not quite so bad."
+
+"Mrs Berens!"
+
+"Oh, don't be so severe, Mary.  I was poorly yesterday--a little
+hysterical--the weather; and I sent for Dr North."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He came, dear, and no medical man could have been nicer than he was at
+first; but all at once he seemed to change--to become as if he were two
+people!"
+
+"Mrs Berens!"
+
+"Yes, dear.  I did not know what to make of him.  He was like one
+possessed, my dear!"
+
+"Mrs Berens!"
+
+"Yes, dear; it's quite true.  One minute he was sympathetic and kind,
+and the next laughing at and bantering me in a strange tone."
+
+"You must be mistaken."
+
+"No, my dear.  He told me it was all nonsense, and that I was as hearty
+as a brick.  What an expression to use to a lady!  And then he
+apologised, and spoke calmly, giving me excellent advice."
+
+Mary wiped the dew from her white forehead.
+
+"And then, my dear," continued Mrs Berens, "directly after he called me
+his pretty buxom widow.  I felt as if I should sink through the floor
+with indignant shame."
+
+"Are you not mistaken, Mrs Berens?" said Mary, whose voice grew
+tremulous and almost inaudible.
+
+"Mistaken, my dear?  Oh, no; that is what he said; and then he seemed to
+feel ashamed of it, and I saw him colour up."
+
+"It seems impossible," muttered Mary; and then she recalled her
+brother's words, and a hand seemed to clutch her heart.
+
+"Of course," continued Mrs Berens, "I could not order him to leave the
+house; I could only look at him indignantly."
+
+"And he apologised?" said Mary eagerly.
+
+"Apologised?  No, my dear; he made matters worse by his low bantering--
+chaff, young men call it--till my face burned, and I felt so shocked
+that I was ready to burst into tears.  For I always did like Dr North.
+Such a straightforward, gentlemanly man.  You always felt such
+confidence in him."
+
+Mary looked at her wildly.
+
+"Oh, no, my dear," continued her visitor, taking her look as a question;
+"nothing of the kind.  I should have smelt him directly.  He kissed me.
+He had not been drinking.  And it's so horrible, for I could never call
+him in again."
+
+"Hush!" whispered Mary.  "Pray don't speak of it before my brother."
+
+"Before your brother!  Oh, no, my dear.  I should sink with shame.  But
+why did you say that?"
+
+"Because he might come in, and I must think about it all before I
+mention it to him."
+
+"But--but Mr Salis--"
+
+"My brother is not out."
+
+"Not out?  I understood your maid to say he had gone to the church,"
+cried Mrs Berens, starting up in alarm.
+
+She was too late, for directly after Salis entered, with the
+presentation surplice over his arm.
+
+Some one turned red in the face.  It may have been Mrs Berens, or it
+may have been Salis; and, in either case, the colour was reflected.
+Certainly both looked warm.
+
+Salis was the first to recover his equanimity and greet the visitor.
+
+"I did not know you had company, Mary," he said.  "I was going to ask
+you to alter the buttons at the neck of this.  It is too tight."
+
+"Then you are going to wear it?" said Mary, with the first display of
+malicious fun that had shone in her eyes since her accident.
+
+"Wear it?  Well, yes; I suppose I must," said Salis gruffly.  "I can't
+afford to buy myself a new one.  Only a beggarly, hard-up curate, you
+see, Mrs Berens."
+
+"Oh, Mr Salis!" faltered the lady.
+
+"And I really was ashamed of my surplice on Sunday.  Mary here patched
+and darned all she could; but I looked a sad tatterdemalion.  Didn't you
+think so?"
+
+"I?  Oh, no, Mr Salis; I was thinking of your discourse."
+
+"But I didn't wear it during the discourse," said Salis slowly.
+
+"Oh, of course.  I should not have noticed it during the prayers," said
+Mrs Berens, who was strung up now.
+
+"That means that the prayers are better worth listening to than my
+sermons?" said Salis quickly.
+
+"I did not say so," retorted Mrs Berens, who momentarily grew more
+dignified and distant of manner, while Mary looked from one to the
+other, surprised into enjoyment of the novel scene.
+
+"Ah, well, never mind," said Salis half-bitterly.  "Never mind the
+sermon, Mrs Berens."
+
+"Is not that rather bad advice for one's pastor to give to a member of
+his flock, Mr Salis?"
+
+"I'm afraid it is," said Salis, laughing.  "I am beaten.  Now it's my
+turn, madam," he added to himself.  "What do you think of that, Mrs
+Berens?" and he held out and displayed the surplice, as a _modiste_
+would a dress.
+
+"It looks very white, Mr Salis," said the lady, fanning herself with a
+highly-scented handkerchief.
+
+"Are you a judge of the quality of linen, Mrs Berens?"
+
+"Well, not a judge; but I think I can tell that this is very fine."
+
+"Exactly," said Salis; "very fine, ma'am.  Do you know what this is?"
+
+"What it is--ahem!  I suppose it is a surplice."
+
+"Yes, ma'am, but it is something more," said Salis sharply; "it is an
+insult!"
+
+"An insult, Mr Salis?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, an insult; an anonymous insult!  Somebody had said to
+himself or herself, `This poor curate has lost his surplice, and can't
+afford another without going into debt; I'll buy him one and send him--
+carriage paid.'"
+
+"Mr Salis!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am.  That is the state of the case.  All right, Mary, my dear;
+I know what I am saying.  Perhaps Mrs Berens may know who sent it."
+
+"Mr Salis!  I--"
+
+"Stop, stop, ma'am; pray don't tell me.  I would rather not know; it
+would be too painful to me.  I only wish you, if you happen to know, to
+tell the anonymous donor what I feel about the matter.  I was going to
+send the robe back to the maker: but, on second thoughts, I said to
+myself, I cannot afford a new one, so will swallow my pride, and wear it
+regularly, as a garb of penance, as a standing reproach--to the giver."
+
+There was quite a strong odour of patchouli in the room, for Mrs Berens
+was whisking her handkerchief about wildly.
+
+"That's all I wanted to say, ma'am.  Mary, you'll alter those buttons.
+I've tried it on, and my breast swelled so much with honest indignation,
+I suppose, that the fastenings nearly flew off.  Good-bye, Mrs Berens.
+Oh! pray shake hands, ma'am.  We are not going to be bad friends because
+I spoke out honestly and plainly."
+
+"Oh, no!  Mr Salis," faltered the lady, who had hard work to keep back
+her tears.
+
+"I only want the donor to know how I feel about an anonymous gift, which
+stings a poor man who has any pride in him."
+
+"But clergymen should not have any pride," said Mary, coming to Mrs
+Berens' help.
+
+"Quite right, my dear, but they have, and a great deal too sometimes."
+
+He nodded shortly to both in turn, and stalked out of the room.
+
+Mrs Berens had risen.  So had the tears, in spite of a very gallant
+fight.  She made one more effort to keep them back, but her emotion was
+too strong; and, woman-like, seeking sympathy of woman, she sank upon
+her knees by Mary's side, sobbing as if her heart would break.
+
+"Good-bye, Mary, dear," she said at last.  "I'm a weak, simple woman;
+but I can feel, and very deeply too."
+
+This, after a long weeping communion, during which Mary Salis understood
+the gentle-hearted widow better than she had ever grasped her character
+before.
+
+There was a very tender embrace, and then, with her veil drawn down
+tightly, Mrs Berens left.
+
+"Why not?" said Mary to herself as she lay back thinking.  "She is very
+good and amiable, and she loves him very much.  And if I die--poor
+Hartley will seem to be alone.--Why not?"
+
+Then her mind reverted to her visitor's words, and a cloud of trouble
+sat upon her brow.
+
+"What can it mean?" she mused.  "And I so helpless here!" she sighed at
+last; "compelled to hear everything from others, unable to do anything
+but lie here and think."
+
+Volume 3, Chapter III.
+
+MOREDOCK WRITES A NOTE.
+
+"He's took to it--he's took to it!" muttered Moredock, as he scratched
+one side of his nose with the waxy end of his pipe.
+
+"Ah, it's wonderful what a many doctors do take to it, and gallop
+theirselves off with it.  Begins with a drop to keep 'em up sometimes, I
+s'pose, and then takes a little more and a little more."
+
+The old man sat smoking and musing over a visit he had just had from
+North.
+
+"I don't like it," he said to himself.  "He mayn't be quite right some
+day when I call him in, and then it may be serious for me; I don't like
+it at all.
+
+"It's no wonder when a man's got all sorts o' things as he can mix up
+into cordles, if he feels a bit down.  That was prime stuff as he give
+me in the morslem.  Hah! that was stuff.  Then that other as went down
+into your fingers and toes, as it did right to the very nails.  Why, I
+shouldn't ha' been surprised if he'd brought Squire Luke back to life
+with it.
+
+"Hi, hi, hi!" he chuckled; "never mind about Squire Luke; but I should
+like him by-and-by--by-and-by, of course--to have a bottle on it mixed
+ready to give me, and bring me back.  Phew! that's a nasty subject to
+think about."
+
+He smoked rather hurriedly for some time, and there was a curious,
+haggard expression in his face; but it died out under the influence of
+his tobacco, and, after a time, he gave a low chuckle and shook all
+over.
+
+"`Old Buck!' that's what he said.  `Old Buck,' and give me a slap i' the
+chest, as nearly knocked all the wind out o' me.  Not a bit like him to
+do.  Not professional.  As soon have expected Parson Salis to call me
+Old Cock.  Ah, well! doctor's only a man after all, and no book-larning
+won't make him anything else; but I don't like a doctor as takes to his
+drops.
+
+"'Tarn't brandy, or gin, or rum, or whisky, or I should have smelt him,
+and he spoke straight enough d'rectly after.  He takes some stuff as he
+mixes up, and it makes him ready to burst out rollicking like at times;
+but he recollects hisself quickly ag'in, and seems sorry.
+
+"Ay, but he looks bad, that he do.  Looks like a man who can't sleep--
+white and wanly.  Well, as long as he tends me right, it don't matter.
+He paid up handsome for all I did for him.  Hi! hi! hi!  It was a rum
+game.  How's young squire now, I wonder, and how's matters going on
+there?  Ha! now that's curus.  So sure as I begins thinking about my
+Dally, she comes.  Hallo, my little princess, how do?"
+
+"Oh, I am quite well, gran'fa," said Dally, entering the cottage,
+looking rather flushed and heated.  "I'm in a great hurry, but I thought
+I'd just run down and see how you were."
+
+"He come with you?" said the old man, pointing over the little maid's
+shoulder.
+
+She looked sharply round, caught sight of Joe Chegg, and ran back and
+slammed the door.
+
+"An idiot!" she cried sharply.  "He's always following me about."
+
+"Going to let him marry you, Dally?"
+
+"I should think not, indeed!  What nonsense, gran'fa."
+
+"Well, what have you come for, eh?  How's squire?"
+
+"Getting nearly well again."
+
+"Is he?  How do you know?  Were you going up to Hall night afore last?"
+
+"N--"
+
+"Yes, you were, Dally," said the old man, with a chuckle.  "You needn't
+tell a lie.  I know.  I often see you when you don't know.  You was
+going up to Hall."
+
+"Well, then, I was," said Dally defiantly, "and I don't care who knows."
+
+"'Cept Miss Leo, eh?"
+
+The old man chuckled hugely, and rubbed his hands.
+
+"I don't mind Miss Leo knowing.  She does know," cried Dally.  "Perhaps
+she sent me."
+
+"Did she, though--did she, though?  Ay, but she'll win him after all,
+Dally.  She's better and handsomer than you are, and she's a leddy,
+Dally.  You've got no chance against she."
+
+"Haven't I, gran'fa?  You'll see.  But not if I'm obliged to go up to
+the Hall looking shabby and mean.  You said I should have a silk gown
+and a feather."
+
+"Did I?  Did I?  Oh, it was only _my_ joking, Dally.  You're such a
+pretty gel, you don't want silk dresses and feathers."
+
+"No, I don't want 'em," said Dally sharply; "but men do.  They like to
+see us dressed up.  Squire Tom thinks I look a deal nicer when I've got
+my best frock on."
+
+"Did he say so, Dally--did he say so?"
+
+"Never you mind, gran'fa.  Where's the money you promised me?"
+
+"Nay, I've thought better of it.  You shall have it some day--when I'm
+dead and gone."
+
+"No, no, gran'fa, dear; I don't want you to die," whispered Dally,
+fondling him.  "I want you to live a long time yet, and come and see me
+at the Hall."
+
+"Tchah! you'll never get to be there.  It'll be Miss Leo."
+
+"Will it?" said Dally, with a toss of the head.  "We shall see about
+that.  You'll give me some money, won't you, gran'fa?"
+
+"Nay.  You've never made them new shirts yet."
+
+"I've been so busy, gran'fa dear," cried the girl.  "Why, I've been up
+to the Hall six times since I saw you last."
+
+"Up to Hall?  Not alone?"
+
+"Yes, and alone.  Why not?" said Dally saucily.  "Besides, Miss Leo sent
+me."
+
+"More than once?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa; often."
+
+"Ay, that's it.  I told you so.  She's a leddy, and she'll win that
+game."
+
+"Will she?" said Dally drily; "when she can't go up to see somebody, and
+sends me?"
+
+The old man drew the corners of his mouth a long way apart in a hideous
+grin, and then burst into a series of chuckles.
+
+"Why, Dally, my gel; you are a wicked one, and no mistake."
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not, gran'fa.  I'm only fighting for myself; and you said
+you'd help me."
+
+"And so I will, my pet; but I can't spare no money."
+
+"Well, I don't know that I want it yet, gran'fa; but I want you to do
+something else."
+
+"Ay, ay.  What is it?" said the old man eagerly.  "Not buy anything?"
+
+"No, not buy anything," said Dally, diving her soft, round little arm
+down into her pocket, to reach which she had to raise one side of her
+dress.  "I want you to write something, gran'fa."
+
+"Nay, I never write now.  Write it yourself.  What you want me to write
+for, after all the schooling you've had?"
+
+"Well, I have written something, gran'fa, but I want you to do it, too."
+
+Dally had fished out a large, common-looking Prayer Book, which opened
+easily in two places, from each of which she took an envelope, and laid
+upon the table.  One was directed, and on being opened she took out a
+note.  The other was blank, and with a folded sheet of paper therein.
+
+Dally was quite at home in the sexton's cottage, and going to the
+mantelpiece she took down a corked penny ink-bottle, and a pen from out
+of a little common vase, while, from their special place, she took the
+old man's spectacles.
+
+"Now, gran'fa," she said sharply, "I want you to write nicely, just what
+I've written there."
+
+"What for? what for?" he cried, taking up the note after adjusting his
+glasses.
+
+"To help me, gran'fa.  You said you would."
+
+"Yes, I said I would," he grumbled.  "I said I would."
+
+"And it won't cost nothing, gran'fa; not even a stamp," said the girl
+saucily.
+
+"Hi--hi--hi!  You're a wicked one, Dally, that you are," he chuckled, as
+he took the pen, and after a good many preliminaries, settled himself
+down to write.
+
+"Do the envelope first, gran'fa," whispered the girl excitedly.
+
+"The envelope first, my pet.  Ay, ay, ay."
+
+He bent over the table, and then, very slowly and laboriously, copied
+the address in a singularly good hand for one so old.
+
+"That's right," cried Dally, who was in a fever of impatience, but dared
+not show it.  "Now the letter, gran'fa."
+
+"Ay, ay, I'll do it," he said, chuckling as he mastered the contents.
+"Don't you hurry, my pet.  I don't often use a pen now.  But I used to
+at one time, and there wasn't many as--"
+
+"Oh, do go on writing, gran'fa!  Quick, quick!  I want to get back."
+
+"Ay, ay, I'll do it," said the old man; and he devoted himself
+assiduously to his task to the end.
+
+"There!" he said; "will that help you, Dally?"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa, dear," she cried.  "But you won't tell."
+
+"Tell?" he cried with a chuckle.  "Nay, I never tell.  I'm as close as
+the holes I dig, Dally.  No one won't know from me."
+
+As he chuckled and talked, the girl hastily tore up the first note, and
+refolded and enclosed the second.  Moistening the envelope flap with her
+little red tongue, which looked quite pretty and flower-like, as it
+darted from her petally lips to the poisonous gum, with a sharp
+"good-bye!" she thrust the envelope into her book, and the book into her
+pocket, to hurry back to the Rectory, conscious that she was followed by
+Joe Chegg, and never once turning her head.
+
+That night Salis sat by the shaded lamp, apparently reading, but a good
+deal troubled about North, respecting whom he had heard several
+disquieting rumours.  Mary was busily working, and Leo finishing a
+letter to some relative in town.
+
+"Add anything you like to that for Mary," she said, rising.  "I'm very
+tired, and shall go to bed."
+
+Salis frowned slightly, for it jarred upon him that every now and then
+his sister should go off to her room just before he rang for the
+servants to come in to prayers.
+
+He said nothing, however; the customary good-nights were said, and the
+curate and Mary were left alone.
+
+Half-an-hour later, Dally and the homely cook were summoned, the lesson
+and prayers road, and after the closing of a door or two the Rectory
+became very still.
+
+"I'll just look round, dear, and then carry you up; or shall I take you
+first?"
+
+"No, Hartley, dear," said Mary; "go first.  Perhaps I may have something
+to say."
+
+"No fresh trouble, I hope," thought Salis, who remained ignorant that
+his sister intended a few words of reproach concerning Mrs Berens, for
+as he stepped into the hall, and stooped to slip the bolt, something
+white, which seemed to have been slipped under the door, caught his eye.
+
+"Circulars here in Duke's Hampton!" he said, picking up an envelope, and
+seeing that it was addressed to him.
+
+"Here, Mary," he said, as he returned; "some one wants us to lay in a
+stock of coals, and--"
+
+He stopped short, and uttered quite a gasp.
+
+"Hartley!  Is anything wrong?"
+
+He hesitated a moment, and then handed the letter to his sister.
+
+It was very short--only a few lines:
+
+"To Rev  H. Salis,
+
+"I think you ought a know bout yure sister and her goins hon, ask her
+ware she is goin hout tow nite at 12 'clock wen ure abed.
+
+"A Nonnymus."
+
+Mary's countenance looked drawn and old as she let the note fall in her
+lap.
+
+"For Heaven's sake don't look like that, Mary," cried Salis angrily.  "I
+beg your pardon, dear.  How absurd!  An anonymous letter from some
+village busybody.  It is not worth a second thought.  There!"
+
+He held the note to the candle, and retained it as long as he could
+before tossing the fragment left burning into the grate.
+
+"That's how the writer ought to be served," he cried.  "Now, bed."
+
+He carried Mary to her chamber, silencing her when she was about to
+speak; and then, after an affectionate "good night," he sought his own
+room.
+
+"It would be cowardly--cruel," he said, "to take notice of such a letter
+as that.  I can't do it."
+
+He threw himself into a chair, and sat till his candle went out,
+thinking deeply about his sister and her unfortunate connection with
+Candlish.
+
+"No," he said, rising slowly; "I cannot act upon that note.  It would be
+too paltry."
+
+He stopped short, for just then the church clock rang out clearly the
+first stroke of midnight.
+
+It was the hour named in the letter, and the thought came to him with a
+flash.
+
+"No," he cried fiercely; "I cannot do that;" but in spite of his words
+the spirit within warned him that he occupied the position of parent to
+his sister, and, quickly throwing open his door, he walked across to
+Leo's room and tapped sharply, and waited for a reply.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter IV.
+
+THE OPEN WINDOW.
+
+As a rule, repeated knockings at a bedroom door when there is no
+response create alarm; thoughts of accident, illness, murder, teeming to
+the brain of the one who summons, and the alarm soon spreads through the
+house.
+
+But in this case Hartley Salis took steps to prevent the alarm
+spreading, as he thought, in happy ignorance of the fact that Dally was
+down on her knees breathing hard with her ear to the keyhole.
+
+He tapped softly, and uttered Leo's name again and again before trying
+the door and satisfying himself that it was locked on the inside.
+
+He uttered a low, hissing sound as he stood there thinking, his brow
+knit, and an angry glare in his eye.  He felt no dread of an accident or
+of illness, for the note he had received was a warning of what he might
+expect.  He only wanted one proof of its truth.
+
+He went back to where Mary was waiting, full of anxiety.
+
+"I know nothing yet," he said abruptly.  "Wait!"
+
+With his countenance growing more stern-looking and old, Salis went
+downstairs and into the drawing-room, which was the easiest way out on
+to the little lawn at the back.
+
+The window fastening was removed without sound, the door opened, and he
+stepped out on to the short grass, with the stars overhead glimmering
+brightly enough for him to make out the dark patches of leafage trained
+against the house and the dim panes of the different casements.
+
+He did not look in the direction of Dally Watlock's room, or he might
+have made out a fat little hand holding the blind sufficiently on one
+side for a pair of dark eyes to watch keenly what was going on.  He
+stepped straight at once for the summer-house, with his heart beating in
+a low, heavy throb, as he mentally prayed that the words written in that
+note might be a cruel lie.
+
+Only a few moments, and then, feeling as if stricken by some mental
+blow--angry, jealous of the man who had stolen from him the love of his
+sister; enraged against the carefully-bred girl, whose life had been
+passed in the pure atmosphere of a country rectory, and to whose welfare
+he had devoted himself, to the exclusion of what might be dear to the
+heart of man.  All contended in his heart for mastery, and seemed to
+suffocate him, as he dimly saw that it was true, and that the girl of
+refinement, to whom he and Mary had rendered up everything that her life
+might be smooth and pleasant, was behaving like some miserable drab who
+had the excuse of knowing no better, of looking at reputation as an
+intangible something, worthless for such as she.
+
+The casement was wide open, pressing back the creepers; and the interior
+of Leo's room showed like a black, oblong patch.
+
+"She may have gone to bed, and left the window open," Hartley whispered.
+
+He shook his head, and a terrible sensation of despair beat down upon
+him.
+
+"Poor Horace!" he muttered.  "He must know more than I give him credit
+for.  This explains his absence, and the strangeness of his ways."
+
+He walked back into the drawing-room, and, without closing the window,
+went up to where Mary sat, waiting in an agony of suspense.
+
+"Oh, Hartley!" she said, as she saw the look of agony in his eyes.
+
+"It would be cruel to keep anything from you, Mary, in your helpless
+state."
+
+"Yes, dear; pray--pray, speak!"
+
+"It is quite true," he said laconically.
+
+Mary's breath, as she drew it hard, sounded like the inspiring of one in
+agony; and she clasped her brother's hands tightly in hers.
+
+"This can't be the first time by many," said Salis wearily.  "Mary,
+dear, I've tried to do all that a brother could for you both, and I've
+been too weak and indulgent, I'm afraid."
+
+"Oh, Hartley, don't talk like that!" cried Mary, with a sob.  "My own
+dear, noble, self-denying brother."
+
+"Hush, hush!  Mary!" he said sadly; "it has all been wrong, and here is
+the result!"
+
+"What are you going to do, dear?"
+
+"I know what I should like to do," he said hoarsely; "go and half kill
+that scoundrel at the Hall."
+
+"Oh, Hartley!"
+
+"This explains why North has not been.  He knows too much.  Heaven! how
+is it that a woman can be lost to all that is due to herself, leave
+alone to those she is supposed to love!"
+
+There was an inexpressible bitterness in his tone as he spoke.
+
+"But what are you going to do?"
+
+"Do!" he said fiercely, but with a tinge of despair in his words; "I'm
+going to thank Heaven that the man whom I believe to be the soul of
+honour and manliness has been saved from linking his fate with that of
+such a woman as Leo Salis."
+
+"Oh, Hartley!" cried Mary, "she is our sister."
+
+"Yes," he said bitterly; "she is our sister.  I shall not forget that."
+
+"But what are you going to do, dear?"
+
+"What am I going to do?" said Salis, bending down and kissing Mary;
+"send you to bed to rest and be ready to bear the troubles of another
+day."
+
+"But Leo?"
+
+"I am going down to wait till she comes."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"And then?  Ah, what then?  What can I do, Mary?" he said despairingly.
+"You know Leo as well as I do.  To speak to her would be waste of
+breath.  There is only one thing I can do."
+
+"Yes, dear," said Mary piteously.
+
+"Strive hard to preserve your dignity and honour, and mine, in the eyes
+of the world."
+
+"But that letter, Hartley!"
+
+"Yes," he said bitterly; "it is too late for that.  Well, I must strive.
+Good heavens! she is only fit to be treated like a wilful child."
+
+"Oh, Hartley!"
+
+"There, hush! little one," he said tenderly; "we must bear it
+patiently."
+
+"You will wait up till she returns?"
+
+"Yes, of course."
+
+"And you will not be violent?"
+
+"Violent!  _Cui bono_?  No, Mary; I shall say very little; but she will
+have to go from here."
+
+There was a desolate sound in his voice--a look of misery in his eyes,
+which brought a sigh from Mary.
+
+"Perhaps I ought to go raging up to the Hall, and try and find Tom
+Candlish," said the curate; "but I don't wish to repeat my last
+encounter with the scoundrel.  It might be worse.  There, you are
+suffering.  Go to bed."
+
+"But I could not sleep!"
+
+"Never mind--lie down.  There, I shall say very little to Leo.  What I
+do say to the point shall be in your presence, dear.  Good night."
+
+"Good night," he repeated, as he walked softly downstairs, and out
+through the drawing-room into the garden, to see that Leo's window
+remained open, when he sighed deeply, went back, and sat down to watch
+for his sister's return.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter V.
+
+A WAYWARD SISTER.
+
+Hartley Salis was not the only watcher.  Mary lay with her eyes burning
+and brain throbbing with contending emotions.  She was in agony, for she
+had to combat, in addition to the horror of the discovery that her
+sister could be so shameless in her acts, a sensation of gratification
+that would force itself to the front.
+
+It was terrible, but it was true; and she knew that she could not help a
+feeling of exultation that Horace North had discovered something of her
+sister's character before it was too late.  She felt ashamed of this
+feeling, but it was utterly unselfish, and born of the love she felt for
+North.  He could never be more than a friend to her, but she would like
+to see him happy, and that he could never be with Leo for his wife.
+
+She wept bitterly as she lay helplessly there, for it seemed like
+rejoicing that her sister was found out; but the thoughts would come,
+and they mastered her.
+
+And there to share the watch of Hartley Salis was Dally Watlock, as she
+sat behind her curtained window with the casement just ajar.  She could
+see nothing below, but she made sure that "Master" would not go to bed
+till "Miss Leo" returned.
+
+"Bless her!" she said, with a little laugh that was like a baby born of
+old Moredock's chuckle.  "How she will catch it!  Serve her right:
+trying to come between us.  But she may try after this.  She'll get out
+to see him no more, and he'll soon forget her."
+
+All was very still without, and Dally strained her ears to catch a
+sound, her eyes to make out some dark figure pacing the garden.
+
+"I wonder where he is?" she said to herself.  "He'd wait for her if it
+was for a month, and then my fine lady will catch it nicely.
+
+"I wish I knew where he was," she muttered, and her wish was gratified,
+for all at once, as she was pressing the casement open another quarter
+of an inch, there was a low cough from down to her left, as Salis
+altered his position in his chair.
+
+"He's watching just inside the drawing-room window," Dally said to
+herself, as she clasped her little hands together; "and when my lady
+comes home--"
+
+Dally paused.
+
+"My lady!  No, she shan't never be my lady," she hissed fiercely.  "I'd
+kill her, and gran'fa should bury her first."
+
+"When she comes home," continued Dally with another malicious little
+laugh, "she'll wish she had never gone.  I'll hear some of the row if I
+have to leave.
+
+"Ah!  It'll pay me for her getting a few kisses, and having his arm
+round her waist a bit.  Ugh! how I hate the nasty, good-looking minx.  I
+wish she was dead!"
+
+Daily's teeth gritted together in the darkness, and she uttered a low,
+hissing noise, as she writhed in her jealousy, and pictured to herself
+the scene that was probably going on at the Hall.
+
+"I don't care," she muttered recklessly.  "What are a few kisses?  I
+shan't miss 'em, and he's obliged to keep it up for a bit before he
+quite breaks it off.  Says it will kill her when he does.  I hope it
+will.
+
+"Wonder how long she'll be?" continued Dally.  "I don't mind.  I can
+easily get a nap to-morrow after dinner, but I don't think she'll care
+to go to sleep after master's had his say."
+
+She settled herself in her place to watch if it were till doomsday, so
+determined did she seem; and meanwhile Hartley sat just inside the
+drawing-room, shrouded in complete darkness which accorded well with the
+blackness of spirit which was upon him.
+
+Leo could not reach her window without passing close to him, and he
+thought bitterly now of his simplicity in not grasping the meaning of
+torn-down growth and broken trellis by the summer-house.  It was all
+plain enough now.  Thought succeeded thought.  He could grasp clearly
+enough the meaning of North's actions when he had attended Tom
+Candlish--how bitter he had seemed against him, and then the full light
+came.
+
+"Why, it must have been North who had surprised Tom Candlish, and beaten
+him within an inch of his life, and, oh! shame--the woman must have been
+Leo!
+
+"And every one must have known this but poor, weak, blind mole, Hartley
+Salis," he groaned.
+
+"Scoundrel!  Base hound!  Why, if I had been North!--but I'm forgetting
+myself," he said, as he pressed his hands to his throbbing brows, and
+felt that the veins in his temples were full and turgid.
+
+"Not a word to me!  Well, how could he speak, and complain to me?  Oh,
+shame, shame, shame!"
+
+The hot tears of indignation started to his eyes; the first that had
+been there for many years, and they seemed to scald him till he dashed
+them fiercely away.
+
+"I stand to her in the place of father," he muttered sternly; "and I'll
+do my duty by her, even if I have to keep her under lock and key."
+
+The time did not seem long, though he sat there for hours, so active was
+his brain, and so flooded with memories of Leo's early life--her wilful
+disobedience, her determined opposition even in childish things, and
+Salis felt that the woman was the same in spirit as the child had been,
+and that if Leo was to be reclaimed he must pursue a very different
+course in the future.
+
+All at once he started, for there was the faint chirp of a bird; then
+the loud _chink! chink_! of a blackbird, and he became on the alert, for
+it was the note uttered when the bird was alarmed.
+
+Day was close at hand, for there was a faint line of light in the east,
+and sure enough directly after there was a faint, rustling sound, as of
+a dress brushing against some bush; directly after--_ruff, ruff; ruff,
+ruff_--the rustling of the dress as its wearer walked quickly up the
+green path, as if in fear of being overtaken by the coming day.
+
+Then it seemed a little darker just in front of the drawing-room window;
+a shrub was blotted out by something black, which seemed to glide
+by--_ruff, ruff; ruff ruff_--and then there was a hard breathing, and
+the creak of a piece of lattice.
+
+For the moment, now that the time had arrived, Salis sat there quite
+overcome, and ready to let the opportunity pass.
+
+But it was only momentary.  Stung into action by the feeling that this
+woman was cruelly wronging and disgracing brother and sister, he rose
+from his place, took half-a-dozen quick strides, and was over the grass
+and at Leo's elbow as she clung to the side of the summer-house, and was
+about to raise herself higher.
+
+The sound of his approach was covered by the noise Leo made in rustling
+the growth pressed against her breast, and the first hint she had of
+discovery was a strong, firm hand grasping her delicate shoulder with
+almost painful violence.
+
+She could not turn her head so as to confront Salis, for she was above
+the ground, clinging with outstretched arms to the strong trellis-work
+of the summer-house, but she uttered a low, hoarse cry, and a shiver ran
+through her as she felt the touch.
+
+"Horace North!" she hissed, with her chin pressed down upon her breast.
+"You are a mean coward and spy.  Oh, if I were a man!"  Salis could not
+speak for a moment or two as he heard this confirmation of his belief,
+but he tightened his grasp till Leo uttered a cry of pain.
+
+"You coward!" she hissed again.  "It is not Horace North," said Salis,
+in a deep voice.  "Thank Heaven he does not know of this."
+
+"Hartley!"
+
+"Yes, Hartley!"
+
+"And North has told you?"
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+He half dragged her down, and kept his grasp upon her shoulder till she
+was inside the drawing-room and he had closed the window.
+
+"You can go up to your bedroom by the stairs," he said sternly, "without
+stealing in like a thief.  Had some one told me of this to my face I
+should have said he lied."
+
+"There, say what you have to say, and end this scene," cried Leo,
+defiantly now.
+
+"I have nothing to say--now," said Salis sternly.
+
+"Oh, say it!  I am not a child."
+
+"I am under a promise to Mary that I will say nothing now."
+
+Salis knew that she turned upon him very sharply, but he could not see
+her face.
+
+"Under a promise to Mary?  There, if anything is to be said, say it."
+
+Salis drew in his breath sharply, and the words came rushing to his
+lips, but he mastered the passion within him, and walked to the door to
+open it.
+
+A dim twilight now faintly filled the hall, showing the curate's figure
+framed in the doorway.  Then he stood aside, holding the way open.
+
+"Go!" he said.
+
+"Sent to bed like a naughty child," she cried, in a harsh, mocking
+voice, which feebly hid the anger and defiance by which she was nerved.
+
+Salis made no reply, nor did he speak again for some moments.
+
+"Go to your room," he said again, more sternly.
+
+Leo made an angry gesture as if she would resist.  Then, giving a
+childish, petulant stamp upon the floor, she walked quickly by him and
+ascended the stairs, Salis following closely behind.
+
+As they reached the landing, it was to find Mary's door open, and that
+the half-helpless invalid had dragged herself there, to stand clinging
+to the side.
+
+"Leo--Hartley," she said, in a low, pained voice: "come here."
+
+"I am sent to bed," said Leo mockingly; and she was passing on, but
+Salis caught her by the arm and checked her.  Then he led her to the far
+end of the room before returning to close the door and help Mary to her
+couch.
+
+"I can speak now," he said, in a low voice full of passion, but at the
+same time well under control.  "Where have you been?"
+
+"Hartley!" said Mary appealingly.
+
+"Hush, my child," he replied.  "I know what I am saying.  I wish to
+avoid the scandal of this being known to the servants, but your position
+and mine demand an explanation.  Leo Salis, where have you been?"
+
+She turned her handsome, defiant face towards where he stood, and now it
+was beginning; to be visible in the soft dawn, pale, fierce, and
+implacable as that of one who has recklessly set every law at defiance
+and is ready to dare all.
+
+"Where have I been?" she said.  "Out!"
+
+"I insist upon a proper reply to my question.  I say, where have you
+been?"
+
+"There!" she cried; "there is no need to fence.  You know where I have
+been?"
+
+"To meet that man Candlish, after promising me that your intercourse
+with him should be at an end; and, to make things worse, you have stolen
+from the house in this disgraceful, clandestine way."
+
+"Is there any need for this?" said Leo sharply.  "There, if you wish to
+know, I have been to Candlish Hall.  Sir Thomas is forbidden this house,
+so you force me to go to him.  You knew where I had been."
+
+"Yes, I knew where you had been," assented Salis, as Mary looked from
+one to the other, not knowing what to say.
+
+"Now, answer me a question," cried Leo fiercely.  "Was it Horace North,
+in his mean, contemptible, jealous spite, who set you to watch me?"
+
+"Leo!" cried Mary, stung to words by her sister's accusation.
+
+"Silence!  What is it to you, you miserable worm?" cried Leo furiously.
+"My home has been made a purgatory for months past by you and dear
+Hartley here.  Plotting together both of you to make me miserable, to
+treat me as a little girl, and to check me at every turn.  What Hartley
+did not try, you thought, and suggested to him till my very soul
+recoiled against you both and your miserable tyranny.  I say it was
+North--the mean wretch--who set you to watch me."
+
+"Horace North is too true a man to give you a second thought; too stern
+and upright to speak of you after your cruel treachery to him."
+
+"It is not true.  I was neither cruel nor treacherous to him," cried
+Leo.
+
+"He told me nothing.  Your acts are growing public, or I should not have
+known what I know now; and this must have an end."
+
+"What end?" said Leo shrewishly.  "Am I to be confined to my room?  Bah!
+I have had enough of all this.  Yes, I have been to see the man I love,
+and will go again and again."
+
+"To your disgrace."
+
+"To my disgrace, or to my death, if I like," cried Leo fiercely.  "I'll
+have no more of this humdrum, miserable life, where I must neither move
+nor stir save as my brother and sister ordain."
+
+"Have you thought what this means?" said Salis sternly.
+
+"Thought?  No.  I have no time for thinking.  I know."
+
+The day was dawning fast, and the pale, soft light slanting into Mary's
+bedroom at the sides of the curtain, giving to each face a ghastly,
+livid look.
+
+Salis strode to the window, and snatched the curtain aside before
+turning to pour out upon his sister's head the hot vial of his wrath.
+But as he turned and faced her his anger was swept away by a great flood
+of pity, and he approached her gently, for he read in the handsome face
+before him, flushed with defiant, reckless passion, that she had reached
+a point in her life when a word might turn her to a future of good or
+one of misery and despair.  She gazed at him as if he were her greatest
+enemy, and then at Mary, to see her hands extended, and a look of
+tenderness and love in her pitying eyes.
+
+But the time was unpropitious; there had been a scene with her lover an
+hour before, which had stirred her angry passions to their deepest
+depth, and then, as she encountered her brother with his stern words of
+reproach, it seemed to her that the time had come when she must strive
+for her freedom.  Tom Candlish had reproached her for her cowardice, and
+laughed her obedience to those at home to scorn.  He had brutally told
+her to go and trouble him no more with letter or message, for she was a
+poor puling thing, and she had returned heartbroken and in misery, for,
+defiant to all else, she was this man's slave.
+
+The encounter then had unloosed her angry passions, and flogging herself
+again and again with her lover's words, she turned recklessly upon those
+who were ready to forgive and take her to their breasts.
+
+"Leo, dear Leo, for pity's sake!" cried Mary wildly.  "Come to me,
+sister.  I cannot even crawl to you."
+
+"And you ask me, worse than worm that you are, to go down on my knees to
+you; and for what, pray?  For the heinous sin of being true to the man I
+love.  There, do you hear me, to the man I love?"
+
+"Leo! sister!" said Salis, trying to take her hand, but she struck his
+away with an angry gesture which he did not resent.
+
+"Well, what have you to say?" she cried.  "Do you want to preach to me,
+to ask me to repent and sorrow with you?  For what?  Is it a crime to
+love?"
+
+"Leo, my child!"
+
+"Leo, my child!" she cried scornfully, as she repeated his words.  "I
+tell you I am a child no longer, and that I will think and act for
+myself.  Fool, idiot that I have been!" she cried, as her passion grew
+more wild and her voice rose.  "I have submitted to you both till it has
+become unbearable.  From this day, if I stay here, I will be my own
+mistress, and suffer your dictation no more.  Teach and torture Mary
+into her grave, if you like, but I will be free."
+
+"Say nothing, Hartley," said Mary softly.  "She will repent all this,
+dear, when she is calm.  Leo, stay with me.  Hartley, dear, pray say no
+more; she is not mistress of herself, and to-morrow, perhaps to-day,
+this painful scene will be forgiven and forgotten by us all."
+
+"Forgiven?  No.  Forgotten?  Never," cried Leo; "and I tell you both
+that if I am driven from the home that I should have shared, and my
+future becomes to me a curse, it is your work."
+
+She had lashed herself into a pitch of unreasoning fury, and invective
+was flowing fast from her lips, when, in the midst of one of her most
+furious bursts, and just as Salis was being driven to despair, there was
+a sharp tap at the door, and before it could be answered, another, and
+Dally came into the room.
+
+"Is Miss Leo ill, sir?" she cried.  "I heard her sobbing in my room.
+Can I do anything?  Shall I light a fire?"
+
+It was Dally's idea of being of some help, that of lighting a fire.
+
+"No, no.  Go away," cried Salis passionately; but he said no more, for
+Leo had crossed quickly to the little servant maid, and clung to her.
+
+"Go with me to my room, Dally," she said in a sharp, strained voice;
+"and let them follow me if they dare."
+
+"Oh, Leo, my child, for Heaven's sake!" cried Salis.
+
+"For Heaven's sake!" she cried wildly, as she clung to Dally.  "What
+have you to do with Heaven, who have made my life a curse?  Take me,
+Dally, take me away, for I am almost blind."
+
+"My poor, darling mistress!" sobbed the little traitress, passing her
+hand round Leo's waist, and helping her towards the door, Leo yielding
+to the girl's guidance, and keeping her defiant eyes flashing from
+sister to brother and back.
+
+The door closed, and as Salis and Mary gazed after the retreating pair,
+a wild hysterical sob, followed by a passionate cry, reached their ears,
+and it was as if misery and despair were henceforth to be their lot; but
+at that moment, from the dewy meadow at the bottom of the garden, a lark
+rose to begin circling round and round, scattering his jubilant, silvery
+notes of song far and wide on the morning air.  And as it proclaimed, as
+it were, to every listening ear that a new day had begun, hope and light
+flashed into the hearts of those within the room.
+
+"It will be a hard task, Mary," said Salis, going down on one knee
+beside Mary, who clung to him with a look of appeal that went to his
+heart.  "Yes, a hard task, dear," he said again, as he kissed her.
+"There, you will not go to bed now, but lie back and have a few hours'
+sleep.  The darkness of the night has passed, and hope cometh with the
+day."
+
+"But Leo--Leo!" moaned Mary, and, unable to contain herself longer, she
+burst into a passionate fit of weeping.
+
+"Hush! darling.  Come: I want my sister's help.  There, fight it down.
+Hers were the words of a passionate, hysterical woman.  She will be
+penitent when the fit is over.  What now?"
+
+"Miss Leo, sir--Miss Leo!" cried Dally, running into the room.
+
+"Well, what, girl?" cried Salis, alarmed by the maid's frantic, excited
+look.
+
+"She sent me out of the room, sir, to fetch her cloak."
+
+"Hush!  Come with me," said Salis, hastily rising to accompany Dally
+from the room, but Mary clung spasmodically to his hand.
+
+"No, no; let her speak.  I cannot bear the suspense."
+
+Salis nodded his head sharply, and the girl went on:
+
+"I went down, sir, and when I came back she was standing in the middle
+of the room with a glass on the table, and something spilled--"
+
+Salis stopped to hear no more, but rushed into Leo's room to find her
+clinging to the foot of the bed, her eyes dilated, a look of horror in
+her face, and in the same glance he took in that which Dally had
+described--a glass upon the table, overturned, and some fluid staining
+the cover and slowly sinking down the side towards the floor.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter VI.
+
+THE DOCTOR IS ECCENTRIC.
+
+"Want me to attend Miss Leo Salis?  Not I.  Send to King's Hampton for
+old--"
+
+"But, please, sir."
+
+"Please, sir?  Yes, you do please this sir.  Why, you pretty little,
+apple-faced, sloe-eyed, cherry-cheeked piece of human fruit!  Here,
+let's have a look at your little face!"
+
+"Oh, Dr North!  For shame!  You shouldn't."
+
+There was the sound of a smart kiss, and then Horace North stood gazing
+wildly at Dally as she made believe to be very much hurt in her dignity.
+
+"You shouldn't, sir, and Miss Leo all the time a-dying."
+
+"Miss Leo--very ill?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I told you so, and then you began talking nonsense and
+hauling me about.  I feel quite ashamed."
+
+"But I cannot go to her, girl.  It is impossible," cried North
+excitedly.
+
+"But master said I was to fetch you, sir.  Oh, I wouldn't ha' thought it
+of you!"
+
+"I beg your pardon, Dally, I was not thinking.  I--I--when was she taken
+bad?"
+
+"Sudden like--early this morning, sir.  You will come, won't you?  We're
+quite frightened."
+
+"Yes, I'll come," said North quickly.  "By what strange irony of fate am
+I called upon again to attend on her?" he thought to himself, as he
+recalled her last illness, and the way in which she had declared her
+passion for him.
+
+"Idiot! fool!" he said.  "What a mere child!  And I a medical man, and
+let my weak vanity carry me away so that I could not see that all was
+delirium."
+
+"Did you speak, sir?" said Dally, who trotted beside him as he walked
+with rapid strides towards the Rectory.
+
+"No.  Yes.  How was it all?"
+
+"Well, sir, I hardly know; only that I left Miss Leo this morning for a
+minute, and when I came back she'd been drinking something out of a
+glass, and looked as if she'd poisoned herself."
+
+"Absurd!  But this morning?  How came you to be with her this morning?
+Why, it is only five now."
+
+"No, sir.  We were up very early."
+
+"Early?  Why, you look as if you had not been to bed.  Here, Dally, what
+has been going on at the Rectory?"
+
+"Going on, sir?  Oh, I couldn't tell you.  And here's master, sir; ask
+him."
+
+In fact, Salis had just run down from Leo's room to see if the doctor
+was coming, and, on catching sight of him, came to hurry him on.
+
+"For Heaven's sake be quick!" he cried.  "Leo is dying!"
+
+North hurried in with him, and upstairs, to find Leo lying upon the bed
+where her brother had placed her, pale, motionless, and with her eyes
+half closed.
+
+"Don't ask questions, but act," panted Salis.
+
+"I am acting," said North sternly, as he bent over his patient, and
+rapidly grasped the position.  "Do you know what she has taken?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What poisons have you in the house?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated the doctor, examining and smelling the glass.  "She
+has got at something."
+
+"But, for pity's sake, act--act," said Salis, in horror.  "You are
+letting her sink before your eyes."
+
+"Best thing too," said North, laughing.  "A miserable little jilt!  I--"
+
+He paused in horror at the words which had fallen from his lips, and met
+his friend's wondering gaze.  Then, as if mastering himself, he gave
+sundry orders in a quick, sharp way, and evidently bestirred himself to
+restore the patient.
+
+For the moment Salis had felt disposed to bid him leave the house; but
+it was a case of emergency, and, keeping a watchful eye upon North, he
+helped where it was necessary, with the result that an hour later Mary
+was left seated beside her, Leo being utterly prostrate, and the doctor
+followed his friend down to the breakfast-room where the meal was
+spread.
+
+"Hah!" cried North, "that's better.  Breakfast's a glorious meal.  Come,
+old chap, sit down.  Never mind the jade; she's all right now."
+
+"In Heaven's name, North, what does this mean?" cried Salis.
+
+North burst into a hearty laugh, which his wild eyes seemed to
+contradict.
+
+"Mean, eh?" he cried.  "Why, I ought to ask you.  What game has the
+lively little witch been up to now?"
+
+"North!" cried Salis piteously.
+
+"There, you needn't tell me," cried North, laughing.  "Tom, eh?  Ah,
+he's a sad dog!"
+
+"North, for pity's sake, have some decency.  I suspected that you had
+found something out, and I can understand your throwing her over like
+this."
+
+"Throw her over?" laughed North.
+
+"Why she threw me over for Tom.  She's a queer one, old chap."
+
+"Are you a man?" cried Salis fiercely, "that you torture me like this.
+Can you not see the shame of it--the disgrace to Mary and me?  Horace
+North, I feel as if I were grovelling in the mire, and you, my oldest
+friend, come and set your heel upon my neck."
+
+"Eh?  Heel?  Your neck?"
+
+"Yes; I know that you must have suffered heavily.  It has been a
+terrible affliction to both Mary and me, for we felt with you; but for
+Heaven's sake, Horace, don't rush into this reckless extreme.  Man, man,
+I want your sympathy and help, if ever I did, and you--you are so
+changed."
+
+"Yes, yes," said North, in a hoarse whisper, and with a ghastly look in
+his eyes.  "So changed--so horribly changed."
+
+"Ah!" cried Salis joyfully; "that's like your old self again.  Why,
+North, what has come to you?"
+
+"Come to me?  You dog!  Come to me, eh?  Look as if I'd been drinking,
+do I?  Oh, I'm all right enough!"
+
+Salis looked at him aghast once more, just as if he had been indeed
+drinking; but his friend's acts belied his words, for he uttered a low
+groan, laid his arms upon the table and let his head sink down.
+
+There was such desolation in his manner that Salis crossed to him and
+laid his hand upon his shoulder, when, to his horror, the poor fellow
+uttered a wild shriek, and started up to dash to the other side of the
+room.
+
+"Oh, it was you," said North huskily, as he gazed wildly at his friend,
+his piteous eyes seeming to ask what he thought of his acts.
+
+"Why, North, old fellow, what is the matter?  You can trust me."
+
+"Matter?" cried North excitedly--"matter?  No, no, nothing is the
+matter.  A little out of order.  Don't take any notice of what I say."
+
+"But I must take notice.  Do you suppose I can see my oldest and best
+friend go on in this mad way?"
+
+"No, no; don't say that," cried North, catching him fiercely by the
+wrist; "not `mad way.'  A little eccentric: that's all.  Don't take any
+notice."
+
+"But--"
+
+"No, no; don't take any notice.  Yes, I was upset about her.  It was a
+shock."
+
+"I knew it was that," cried Salis; "but, North, my dear fellow, you must
+master it: we are old friends.  I will keep nothing from you.  Let us be
+mutually helpful.  Is it nothing to us to have such a horror as this in
+our midst?"
+
+"It is terrible for you," said North quietly.  "The foolish girl!"
+
+"Hah!" ejaculated Salis, beaming upon him; "that sounds like you."
+
+"I bear her no malice," continued North dreamily.  "It has all been one
+bitter mistake."
+
+"Yes, a bitter, bitter mistake!" assented Salis.
+
+"But it is over now.  It was in her delirium that she told me she loved
+me."
+
+"Leo told you this?"
+
+"Yes.  I ought to have known better.  But I am only a weak man, Salis.
+It is over now."
+
+"It is for the best, my dear old fellow," cried Salis warmly.  "There,
+you are yourself again.  Now tell me.  What had she taken?"
+
+"Some strong narcotic poison.  I fancy it was belladonna.  Did she use
+it for her eyes?"
+
+"No.  I think not.  No," said Salis thoughtfully.  "Nature had not made
+it necessary for her to try and improve her looks."
+
+"No," said North thoughtfully.  "Had you quarrelled?"
+
+Salis stood with his brows knit for a few moments, and then he turned
+sharply upon North.
+
+"Tell me first," he said, "you surprised my sister with that scoundrel,
+Candlish?"
+
+North shuddered as he bowed his head.
+
+"And I am right in thinking it was you who half killed him?"
+
+"Yes," said North; "it was I."
+
+"I don't wonder at it," said Salis quietly.  "Now I'll answer your
+question.  Mary and I hoped we had broken all that affair off between my
+sister and Candlish; but last night I made a discovery, and we did
+quarrel."
+
+"And the weak, foolish girl flew to that narcotic poison to end her
+trouble," said North thoughtfully.  "Ah, well, you must watch her now.
+There is no danger.  It is past."
+
+"Thanks to you!"
+
+"Thanks to me?  Perhaps so; but don't send for me again unless it is a
+case of emergency.  There, I must go now."
+
+He rose painfully, looking wild and haggard; but the next moment his
+whole appearance changed, and he gave his friend a tremendous
+back-handed blow in the chest.
+
+"She'll be all right, old chap, and ready to carry on her games again
+directly.  She's a lively one, parson; as sprightly a filly as was ever
+foaled.  And you, too--you sham old saint; I can see through you, and
+Madame Crippleoria upstairs!  I--"
+
+He smote himself heavily in the mouth, uttered a low groan, and with a
+despairing look in his eyes that seemed mingled of horror and fright, he
+glanced wildly at Salis, and hurried from the place.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter VII.
+
+HAUNTED.
+
+"Leo, how could you do so foolish a thing?" said Mary Salis, a few days
+later, as she sat by her sister's couch.
+
+"What do you mean?" said Leo feebly.
+
+"You know what I mean, dear.  Is life so valueless that in a rash moment
+you would have cast it away?"
+
+"Do you suppose, then, that I tried to take my life?" cried Leo, in a
+low, weak voice.
+
+"Don't let's talk about it," said Mary, with a shudder; "unless it is in
+sorrow."
+
+"Why was it placed there?" said Leo, catching her sister's wrist.
+
+"Placed there?"
+
+"Yes.  Was it Hartley's doing?"
+
+"Hartley's doing?"
+
+"Yes; the glass standing on my table as if it held water.  Did Hartley
+do it, Mary?"
+
+"Is your mind wandering, dear?" said Mary, laying her cool hand upon her
+sister's white forehead.
+
+"No; I'm as calm as you are.  Hartley must have placed it ready for me--
+to get rid of his wicked sister, I suppose."
+
+"Leo!  Don't speak like that.  How can you, dear?  Hartley place a glass
+for you!"
+
+"Yes.  I thought it was water, and I drank it."
+
+"Hush, Leo, dear!"
+
+"You don't believe me!  Very well; I cannot help it.  The stuff was
+placed ready for me on the table, and I drank it."
+
+Mary sighed, but she kept her cool, soft hand pressed upon her sister's
+brow.
+
+"Why do you stop here?" said Leo, at last.
+
+"Because I wish to talk to you--to try and be of some help."
+
+There was a silence which lasted some minutes, and then Leo turned her
+fierce dark eyes sharply on her sister.
+
+"You have kept back his letters," she said sternly.
+
+"His letters!"
+
+"Yes; he has written to me since I have been ill."
+
+Mary shook her head, and Leo gazed full in her eyes to satisfy herself
+that this was the truth.
+
+"Has he sent to ask how I am?"
+
+"No."
+
+Leo closed her eyes, and lay back with her lips moving slightly, while
+Mary watched and wondered whether North would come and see her sister
+again, and whether any fresh eccentricity had been noticed.
+
+Had she known all she would have been less calm.
+
+That morning Cousin Thompson had come down, gone straight to the Manor,
+and saluted Mrs Milt.
+
+"Doctor in his room?"
+
+"No, sir; master's ill."
+
+"Not seriously?" said Cousin Thompson, with thoughts of being next of
+kin.
+
+"I don't know, sir," said the housekeeper.  "Master certainly don't seem
+as I should like to see him."
+
+"Dear me!" said Cousin Thompson thoughtfully.  "That's bad, Mrs Milt;
+that's bad.  However, I'll go up and see him."
+
+The housekeeper shook her head.
+
+"What do you mean, Mrs Milt?"
+
+"I mean that I don't think he'll see you, sir."
+
+"Oh, stuff and nonsense!  Go and tell him I'm here."
+
+The housekeeper went away, and came back in five minutes, looking
+troubled.
+
+"Master says you must excuse him, sir.  That you are to please ask for
+what you want, but he is too unwell to see you."
+
+"Dear me, Mrs Milt; I'm sorry to hear this," said the solicitor, with a
+look of commiseration.  "But, then, he is a doctor, and must know his
+symptoms.  Has he had any one to see him?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then he is not very bad.  I mean no doctor?"
+
+"No, sir; no doctor."
+
+"I didn't mean solicitor, Mrs Milt," said Cousin Thompson, laughing
+unpleasantly.  "Of course, if he required a solicitor he would send for
+me, eh?"
+
+"I suppose so, sir."
+
+"He has not sent for a solicitor, of course--to make his will, eh?"
+jocularly.  "No, no; of course not."
+
+"Perhaps you had better ask master about such things as that, sir," said
+Mrs Milt, with asperity.  "I know nothing about that."
+
+"You do, you hag!" said Cousin Thompson to himself: "you do, or you
+wouldn't be so eager to disclaim all knowledge of such an act--and deed.
+This must be seen to, for I can't afford to have you coming between me
+and my rights, madam.  This must be seen to."
+
+"What would you like to take, sir?"
+
+"Anything, my dear Mrs Milt, anything.  Too busy a man to trouble about
+food.  I'm going to see a client, and while I'm gone perhaps you will
+get a snack ready for me."
+
+"You will not sleep here, I suppose?"
+
+"But I will sleep here, Mrs Milt," said Cousin Thompson, smiling.  "I
+do not feel as if I could go back to town without being able to take
+with me the knowledge that my cousin is in better health."
+
+"And not at the mercy of thieves and scheming people," he muttered, as
+he went off to see Mrs Berens, as he put it, "_re_ shares."
+
+North's bedroom bell rang violently as Cousin Thompson disappeared down
+the road, and Mrs Milt went up to the door and knocked.
+
+"Has that man gone?" came from within.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Bring up the brandy."
+
+Mrs Milt uttered a sigh.
+
+"May I bring you up a little broth, sir, too?" she whispered, with her
+face close to the panel.  "You've had nothing to-day, sir, and you must
+be growing faint."
+
+"Bring up the brandy!" roared North fiercely.  "Do you hear?"
+
+"And him to speak to me like that!" sighed the housekeeper, as she went
+down for the spirit decanter; "and for him, too, who never took anything
+but tea for days together, to be asking for brandy in this reckless way.
+Five times have I filled up the spirit decanter this week."
+
+She returned with the brandy and knocked.
+
+No answer.
+
+"I've brought the brandy, sir."
+
+"Set it down."
+
+"Can I speak to you, sir?"
+
+There was a fierce stamp of the foot which made the jug rattle in the
+basin on the washstand, and Mrs Milt set down the decanter close to the
+door, and went down again, raising her apron to her eyes.
+
+"I wouldn't have any one know how bad he is for the world," she sighed;
+and, resisting the temptation to stand and watch the opening of the
+door, the old lady went into her own room and shut herself in.
+
+As the sound of the closing door rose to the upstair rooms, that of
+North's chamber was cautiously opened and a hand was thrust out to go on
+feeling about till it came in contact with the decanter, which it seized
+and bore in, the door being reclosed as the hand and arm disappeared.
+
+The room within was darkened, and the figure of Horace North looked
+shadowy and strange as he walked hastily to and fro, now here, now
+there, as some wild animal restlessly parades the sides of his cage.
+
+He held the decanter in his hand, and seemed in no hurry to use the
+spirit; but at last he set it down upon the dressing-table, drew the
+curtain a little on one side, and went to the washstand, from which he
+brought the water-bottle and tumbler.
+
+As he poured out some of the spirit into a glass, the light shone full
+upon his face, and he blinked as if his eyes were dazzled by the glare.
+
+The decanter made a chattering noise against the glass till he rested
+his trembling hand upon the side, ceased pouring, and closed his eyes
+for a few moments to rest.
+
+As he opened them again his gaze fell upon his reflection in the
+dressing-glass upon the table, and he stood fixed to the spot, glaring
+at the wild-looking object before him, with its sunken eyes, wrinkled
+brow, and horrified, hunted, and frightened look.
+
+He had seen such a face as that hundreds of times in the case of
+patients suffering from some form of mania, generally in connection with
+drink, and it petrified him for the time, for his brain refused to
+accept the fact that he was gazing at his own reflection.
+
+It was a strange scene in that darkened room, with the one broad band of
+light shining in through the half-drawn curtain, falling upon that
+haggard and ghastly face gazing at its counterpart, each displaying a
+haunted look of horror--a dread so terrible that it explained North's
+next action, which was to let fall decanter and glass with a crash upon
+the floor, before slowly backing away right to the furthest portion of
+the room, where he stood against the wall, panting heavily.
+
+The curtain fell back, as if an invisible hand had held it for a time,
+and once more the room was in semi-gloom, while the faint, sick odour of
+the brandy gradually diffused itself through the place till it reached
+the trembling man's nostrils and made him shudder.
+
+"Like the smell of that place--like the smell of that place!  Is this to
+go on for ever?"
+
+Again he determinedly argued the question, and felt that, failing to
+arrest the decay of Luke Candlish, he had imbibed the essence of the man
+which, needing a fleshy body in which to live, had possessed him, so
+that his fate seemed to be that he must evermore lead a double life, in
+which there was one soul under the control of his well-schooled brain;
+the other wild, independent, and for whose words and actions he must
+respond.
+
+"I cannot bear it," he muttered, as he stood back against the wall, as
+far from the faint light as the room would allow.  "It must be like
+madness in others' eyes, and yet I am sane.  I feel like a man haunted
+by a shadow, and yet it is a fancy--a terrible waking dream.  But I
+will--Heaven help me!--I will look at it from a scientific point of
+view; say it is so--that I have arrested spirit and not body.  Well,
+what then?  Is there anything to fear?
+
+"No; and I will not fear it," he muttered, "any more than I would the
+dead; but," he added, after a pause, "it is the living I fear.  I cannot
+explain--I cannot control--this horror--bah! this essence--when it
+speaks, and the living give me the blame.  No, I cannot, I dare not,
+explain.  Who would believe?  No one.  They would say I was mad."
+
+A gentle tap at the door, but no response.  A louder tapping, and no
+answer.
+
+"Mr Thompson, sir, says he must see you on very particular business."
+
+North heard the words.  His crafty, keen-eyed cousin was there.  How
+could he see him now?  It was impossible.  He had declined before, and
+he was persisting again.
+
+"Will you come down and see him, sir?"
+
+"No: don't do that, Horace, if you are ill.  Open the door and I'll come
+and chat to you there."
+
+No sound in reply; but directly after there was a loud noise of mocking
+laughter from within the room, a boisterous shout, and a partly-heard
+speech.
+
+"Oh, my dear master!" cried Mrs Milt.  "Ah!" ejaculated Cousin
+Thompson, across whose imagination glided the fair prospect of the
+beautiful Manor House estate, and his eyes glistened as he said softly,
+"I'm afraid he is very ill."
+
+Volume 3, Chapter VIII.
+
+COUSIN THOMPSON'S DUTY.
+
+"Oh, no; it's nothing at all, sir--nothing at all," said Mrs Milt
+hastily; "and I didn't know you'd come upstairs behind me, sir."
+
+"It was to save you a journey, my dear Mrs Milt," said Cousin Thompson
+smoothly.  "Yes, I'm afraid he is very ill.  A little delirious, I
+think."
+
+"Delirious, sir?  Oh, nonsense!  Master's often like that."
+
+"Indeed!" said Cousin Thompson, in a tone of voice which made the
+housekeeper wish she had bitten off her tongue before she had committed
+herself to such a speech.  "You heard him utter that laugh?"
+
+"Well, surely to goodness, sir, that don't signify anything.  A laugh!
+I wish I could laugh."
+
+"But he gave a `view halloo!' and said something about a fox."
+
+"Well, really, sir, what if he did?  There's nothing master likes better
+after a hard week's work and a lot of anxiety than a gallop after the
+hounds.  It does him good.  Why, a doctor wants taking out of himself
+sometimes, specially one who works as hard as master does.  A medical
+man's anxiety sometimes is enough to drive him mad."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so," said Cousin Thompson smoothly.  "Hadn't you better
+knock again?"
+
+"No, sir, I hadn't," said Mrs Milt tartly.  "I'm quite sure master
+don't want to be disturbed."
+
+"But really, my good woman, it seems to me that he ought to have medical
+advice."
+
+"And it seems to me, sir, as he oughtn't to.  If master's not well and
+can't do himself good, nobody else can, I'm sure; and if you please,
+sir, will you come downstairs?  He'd be very angry if we stopped here."
+
+"Oh, certainly, Mrs Milt.  Pray forgive me.  I could not help feeling a
+little bit anxious about my cousin."
+
+"I haven't got nothing to forgive, sir," said the old lady; "only I'd
+have you know that I'm as anxious about my dear master as anybody."
+
+"Of course, Mrs Milt.  Quite natural.  Dr North is a remarkable man,
+and will some day become very famous."
+
+"I dessay, sir," said Mrs Milt drily.  "I think you said you should
+stop all night?"
+
+"Yes, Mrs Milt; and I'm afraid my business here will keep me another
+day, if it is not troubling you too much."
+
+"Oh, that don't matter at all, sir.  I'm sure master wishes you to be
+made very comfortable, and as far as in me lies, sir, I shall carry out
+his wishes."
+
+"Thank you, Mrs Milt.  I'm sure you will," said Cousin Thompson; and
+Mrs Milt rustled out of the room, looking very hard and determined, but
+as soon as she was out of sight deep lines of anxiety began to appear
+about her eyes, and she wrung her hands.
+
+"Yes," said Cousin Thompson, going at once to North's table and sitting
+down to write a letter; "I shall sleep here to-night, Mrs Milt, and I
+shall sleep here to-morrow night, and perhaps a great many other nights.
+It is no use to be a legal adviser unless I legally look after my sick
+cousin's affairs."
+
+Cousin Thompson's anxiety about his cousin gave his countenance a very
+happy and contented look.
+
+"Things are looking up," he said, as he finished and fastened his
+letter.  "Everything comes to the man who waits.  Even pleasant-looking,
+plump Mrs Berens may--who knows?"
+
+He carefully tore off a stamp from a sheet in the writing-table drawer,
+moistened it upon a very large, unpleasant-looking tongue, and affixed
+it to the envelope.
+
+"Perhaps she is right, and he will be better without medical advice," he
+said, with a pleasant smile upon his countenance.  "Why should I
+interfere?  That is where some people make such a mistake: they will dig
+up a plant to look at its roots.  I prefer letting a well-growing plant
+alone.  Yes, things are looking up.  Now for my genial baronet."
+
+He walked out into the ball, and took his hat, just as there was a ring
+at the gate bell.
+
+"Who's this?" he said; and he walked into the dining-room and nearly
+closed the door, but not quite.
+
+The next minute there were steps in the hall, the door was opened, and
+the curate's bluff voice rang through the place in an inquiry after the
+doctor.
+
+"He's very poorly, sir," said Mrs Milt, in a low and cautious voice.
+"I don't really know what to make of him."
+
+"I do," said Salis.  "He wants rest and change, Mrs Milt."
+
+"Yes, sir; I think that's it, sir."
+
+"I wish I could get him away.  I will."
+
+"Will you?" said Cousin Thompson softly.
+
+"Here, I'll go up and see him.  In his room, I suppose?"
+
+"Excuse me, sir; I think you had better not.  It irritates him.  Old
+Moredock came last night about some trifling ailment, and poor master
+was quite angry about it.  Then Mr Thompson went up to his door, and it
+seemed to irritate him.  You know how tetchy and fretful it makes any
+one when he's ill."
+
+"I want to see him, Mrs Milt.  I want to talk to him."
+
+Cousin Thompson's eyes twitched.
+
+"But I'll go by your advice."
+
+Mrs Milt said something in reply which the listener missed, and
+consequently exaggerated largely as to its value, and directly after
+Salis went away in a new character--to wit, that of Cousin Thompson's
+mortal enemy; though Salis himself was in utter ignorance of the fact.
+
+"Well, and how are we to-day?" said the lawyer on entering the old
+library at the Hall.
+
+Sir Thomas Candlish was lying back in his chair, with a cigar in his
+mouth, a sporting paper on his lap, and a soda and brandy--or, rather,
+two brandies and a soda--at his elbow.
+
+"How are we to-day!" he snarled.  "Don't come here talking like a cursed
+smooth humbug of a doctor about to feel one's pulse."
+
+"But I am a doctor, and I have come to feel your pulse, my dear sir,"
+said Cousin Thompson laughingly.
+
+"Eh?--what?  Again!  Why, there's nothing due yet."
+
+"There, there, there! don't trouble yourself, my dear Sir Thomas.  There
+is a little amount to meet; but you are not, as you used to be, worried
+about money matters.  You can pay."
+
+"Yes," snarled Tom Candlish; "and you seem to know it, too."
+
+"Come, that's unkind.  It isn't generous, my dear sir.  Surely if a man
+lends money he has a right to claim repayment."
+
+"Oh, yes, I know all about that--the old, old jargon of the craft.  I
+don't want to borrow now.  If I did I suppose I should hear all about
+your friend in the City, eh?--your client who advances the money, eh?"
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Thompson.  "One needn't ask how you are.  The old
+vein of fun is coming back flushed with health and strength."
+
+"Cursed slowly.  Now, then, what do you want?"
+
+"Oh, it is a mere trifling business."
+
+"A trifle."
+
+"It would have been serious to you once; but it is a trifle now."
+
+"Well, let's have it."
+
+"No, no, not yet.  There, I'll take a cigar and a B. and S."
+
+"Ah, do," said Candlish sarcastically.  "Make yourself at home, pray."
+
+"To be sure I will.  I've come to doctor you and do you good."
+
+"Damn all doctors!" sneered Candlish.
+
+"Amen," said Cousin Thompson merrily, as he took a cigar, lit it, and
+helped himself to the brandy.  "Look here, sir; you sit alone and mope
+too much.  You want exercise."
+
+"How the devil am I to take exercise, when, as soon as I get on a horse,
+my head begins to swim?"
+
+"And a pretty girl or two to see you."
+
+Tom Candlish uttered a low, blackguardly, self-satisfied chuckle.
+
+"Eh?  I say.  Hallo!" cried Cousin Thompson.  "Oh, I see.  Well, mum's
+the word.  But, come; you do want change; you're too much alone.  Now
+I've come--"
+
+"Oh, yes, you've come, and on a deuced friendly visit too."
+
+"Business and friendliness combined, my dear sir.  Why, you used not to
+snub me like this.  There, I meant to chat over a little money matter
+with you.  Let's do it pleasantly.  Come up to that capital table, and
+let's do it over a friendly game of billiards."
+
+Tom Candlish started from his seat, overturning his glass, which fell to
+the floor, and was shattered to atoms.
+
+"My dear Sir Thomas! what is the matter?"
+
+"Nothing--nothing," he replied hoarsely.  "Not well yet.  A confounded
+spasm."
+
+"How unfortunate!  Let me refill your glass, or shall I do it upstairs
+in the billiard-room?"
+
+"Curse the billiards!  I tell you I don't play now."
+
+"Not play?"
+
+"The sight of the balls rolling makes me giddy," cried the wretched man,
+glaring at his visitor.
+
+"Why, my dear sir, I'm very sorry I mentioned the game.  There, let me
+give you a light.  You're out.  That's it.  Really you ought to have the
+advice of a doctor."
+
+"Damn all doctors!" growled the baronet again.
+
+"I can't afford to have you ill, my dear Sir Thomas," said Thompson,
+with an unpleasant laugh.
+
+"No, you can't afford to have me ill.  Too good a cow to milk."
+
+Cousin Thompson laughed, and felt that he had made a mistake.
+
+"I cannot advise you to have my cousin up, because he, too, is ill."
+
+Tom Candlish's lips parted to utter a fierce oath, but he checked it,
+and swung himself round in his chair.
+
+"Is he very ill?" he said eagerly.
+
+"Yes; he seems to me to be very ill."
+
+"I'm glad of it--I'm very glad of it," cried Candlish.  "Come, you
+needn't stare at me.  I wish the beast was dead."
+
+"I was not staring at you," said Cousin Thompson; "only listening.  I
+think you and he don't get on well; but he's a very clever man--my
+cousin Horace; and if I could get a little advice from him on your case,
+I'm sure I would."
+
+"I want no advice.  Only a little time.  I'm coming round, I tell you--
+fast.  But about North.  Is he very bad?"
+
+"Well, ye-es; I should say he was very bad."
+
+"What's the matter?  Has he caught some fever?"
+
+"No.  Oh dear, no!  It's mental.  He seems a good deal unstrung.  A
+little off his head, perhaps."
+
+"Why, curse it all, Thompson," cried Candlish excitedly; "you don't mean
+that the blackguard is going mad?"
+
+"My dear Sir Thomas--my dear Sir Thomas," said the lawyer, in a voice
+full of protestation; "I really cannot sit here and listen to you
+calling my cousin a blackguard."
+
+"Then stand up, man, and hear it.  He is a blackguard, and I hate him,
+and I'd say it to his face if he were here.  Now tell me, is he really
+bad?"
+
+"Only a temporary attack.  He is suffering, I'm afraid, from overstudy.
+But now to business."
+
+"Stop a minute, man: let me think.  Hang the business!  How much is it?
+I'll write you a cheque.  I can now, Thompson, old chap.  Times are
+altered, eh?"
+
+"Ah, and for the better, Sir Thomas."
+
+"Here, hold your tongue.  Don't talk.  Let me see: not married; neither
+chick nor child; no brother.  Why, Thompson, if North--curse him!--died,
+you'd have the Manor House!"
+
+"Should I!" said Cousin Thompson, raising his eyebrows thoughtfully.
+"Well, yes, I suppose I am next of kin.  But Horace North will outlive
+me."
+
+"Is he quite off his head?"
+
+"Hush! don't talk about it, my dear sir.  Poor fellow, he is ill; but
+not so very bad.  I shouldn't like it to get about amongst his patients.
+People chatter and exaggerate to such an extent."
+
+Tom Candlish smoked furiously for a few moments, and then cast away the
+end of his cigar, and lit another, biting the end, and frowning at his
+visitor.
+
+"Now about business," said Thompson, at last.
+
+"Curse business!" cried the squire, as he kept on watching the lawyer
+keenly.  "Look here, Thompson, how was it that you two being cousins, he
+has so much money, and you're as poor as Job?"
+
+"Way of the world, my dear sir--way of the world."
+
+Tom Candlish sat back, chewing the end of his cigar and smoking hard.
+
+"Look here, you Thompson!  Now out with it; you don't like Dr North?"
+
+"Like him?  I hate all doctors; just as you do."
+
+"That's shuffling out of it," said Candlish scornfully; "but you needn't
+be afraid of me.  I'm open enough.  I'm not above speaking out and
+telling you I hate him.  I wish you'd make a set on his pocket, and
+bleed him as you are so precious fond of bleeding me."
+
+"Oh, nonsense, nonsense!" said Cousin Thompson laughingly; and then the
+two men sat smoking and gazing one at the other in silence till their
+cigars were finished.
+
+"Take another," said the squire, handing the case lying upon the table.
+
+Thompson took another, and Tom Candlish lit his third, to lie back in
+his chair, smoking very placidly, and staring from time to time at
+Thompson, who watched him in turn in a very matter-of-fact, amused way.
+
+They rarely spoke, and when they did it was upon indifferent themes; but
+by degrees a mutual understanding seemed to be growing up between them,
+dealing in some occult way with Horace North's health and his position
+in Duke's Hampton.  The Manor House estate, too, seemed to have
+something to do with their silent communings.
+
+This lasted till the lawyer's second and the squire's third cigar were
+finished, and a certain amount of liquid refreshment had been consumed
+as well.  Then Cousin Thompson suddenly threw away the stump of
+tobacco-leaf he had left.
+
+"Now suppose we finish our bit of business?"
+
+"All right," said Candlish sulkily; and after reference to certain
+memoranda laid before him, he opened a secretary, wrote a cheque, and
+handed it to the lawyer.
+
+"Thanks; that's right," said the latter, doubling the slip, and placing
+it in his pocket-book.
+
+"Going back to town to-night?" said Candlish.  "No."
+
+"To-morrow?"
+
+"No."
+
+"When then?"
+
+"Depends on how matters turn out," said Thompson meaningly.  "I suppose
+if I wanted a friend I might depend on you?"
+
+"Of course, of course," cried the squire eagerly.
+
+"Thanks," said Cousin Thompson.  "I shall not forget, but I don't think
+I shall want any help.  Good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye," said Tom Candlish warmly.
+
+A wish of a mutual character, expressed in a contraction--that God might
+be with two as utter scoundrels as ever communed together over a
+half-hatched plot.
+
+"Mrs Milt," said Cousin Thompson, as he entered the Manor that night,
+"I have been thinking over matters, and you need not say much to your
+master, but I feel it to be my duty to stay here for the present, and
+look after his affairs."
+
+"But really, sir--"
+
+"Have the goodness to remember who you are, Mrs Milt.  Leave the room!"
+
+"And him going about in the dark watches of the night like a madman,"
+sighed Mrs Milt, as soon as she was alone.  "If that wretch sees him,
+what will he think?"
+
+"That wretch," to wit, Cousin Thompson, was biting his nails in North's
+library, and listening to a regular tramp upstairs.
+
+"Strange thing," he said, "but as soon as a man's head is touched, he
+grows more and more like a four-footed beast."
+
+He smiled and listened.  All was very still now, and he set to work
+searching drawers and the bureau for material that might be useful to
+him in the settlement of Horace North's affairs, and as he searched he
+talked to himself.
+
+"Let me see: it was Nebuchadnezzar--wasn't it?--who used to go about on
+hands and knees eating grass."
+
+He examined a document or two, but did not seem satisfied with the
+result.
+
+"Hah! poor Horace!" he said.  "I'm very sorry for him, but I must do my
+duty to society, and to him as well."
+
+He started, for the door-handle had been touched, and, quick as
+lightning, he dropped the papers he held, and blew down the chimney of
+the lamp.
+
+The door cracked, and as it opened slightly he could hear the church
+clock chiming, and then a deep-toned _one_ boomed forth.
+
+There was a something beside sound entered, for by the faint light which
+streamed in over the top of the shutters he could see a dark blotch
+moving slightly, and, as he felt chilled to the marrow, the dark patch
+changed slowly to a dimly-seen face of so ghastly a kind that he stood
+there gazing wildly, and fixed helplessly to the spot.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter IX.
+
+COUSIN THOMPSON'S TOOTH-ACHE.
+
+Regularly day after day.
+
+The restless, wild-beast pace went on upstairs with intervals hour after
+hour, as, for the first time for many years, Horace North felt the
+terrible side of his lonely life, and the want of some one in whom he
+could really confide--mother, wife, sister--who would believe in him
+fully; but there were none.
+
+His life of study had made him self-sustaining until now.  He had had no
+great call made upon him.  But now there was the want, and he sat for
+hours thinking of his state, only to spring up again and tramp his room.
+
+To whom could he fly for counsel--Salis?  The old housekeeper?  The old
+doctor in London?  Thompson, his cousin, then in the place?
+
+"No, no, no!  How could I explain myself?  If I told all my feelings,
+all I have done, they would say that I was mad.
+
+"It is impossible to speak," he panted.
+
+"I am chained--thoroughly chained."
+
+He paused in his wearying tramp, for, like a light, there seemed to come
+in upon him the soft, sweet face of Mary, with her gentle look and
+luminous eye.  She might help him, poor suffering woman.  But no, no,
+no!  It was impossible: he could not speak.
+
+The time had come round again when, to relieve the terrible tedium of
+his life, he went out of his room--waiting always till the house was
+silent and all asleep.
+
+He opened his door and went out cautiously, to descend to the hall, and
+after hesitating for a few minutes, he laid his hand upon the fastening
+of the front door, as if to go out, but shook his head and turned away.
+
+Going silently into the cheerless drawing-room, he paced that, and then
+the dining-room in turn, till, wearying of this, he crossed to the study
+to open the door, paused for a moment or two, startled by the loud crack
+it gave, for the study seemed associated in his mind with the horror of
+the position he had brought upon himself.
+
+Then, thrusting in his head slowly, it seemed to him that he was at last
+free, for there before him, embodied for the time, was Luke Candlish
+rising from a chair, much as we had last seen him at his home; and as he
+gazed wildly at the face dimly-seen in the dark, it seemed to him the
+time had indeed come when he could crush his haunting enemy beneath his
+heel, and, rushing forward, he tried to catch him by the throat.
+
+"Now," shouted North fiercely, "I have given you back your life; take
+it, and give me back mine in rest and peace, or, as I restored, so will
+I destroy."
+
+His hands dropped to his side, and he uttered a low moan and shrank
+away.
+
+Not that it was all imagination, for he knew that he had tightly grasped
+a living, breathing form, which had uttered a cry of dread, and then
+exclaimed:
+
+"Horace--Horace, old fellow, are you mad?"
+
+There was a loud rustling, a faint rattling sound, as North staggered to
+the side of the room and sank upon the couch.  Then came a scratching
+noise, the flash of a match, and the tiny wax light emitting a bluish
+flame threw up the pale, smooth face of Cousin Thompson, whose eyes were
+dilated with fear.
+
+He hurried to the chimney-piece, and lit one of the candles in a bronze
+stand.
+
+"Why, Horace, old fellow, what are you about?" he cried, trembling.
+"Thank goodness, it is you."
+
+North muttered some words inaudibly, afraid to trust himself to speak,
+and covered his face with his hands.
+
+"Why, what's the matter, old fellow?" said Thompson, laughing.  "Oh, I
+see; you've been shut up so long, you can't bear the light.  How
+ridiculous, isn't it?"
+
+North remained silent.
+
+"I heard a noise, and knowing you were ill, felt it my duty to come
+down.  I could tell that some one was prowling about, and backed in here
+with my fist ready doubled to strike, but you were too quick for me.
+I'm glad I spoke."
+
+Still no answer.
+
+"By Jove! what a joke!  You took me for a burglar; I took you for one.
+What a blessing that we were not armed!"
+
+"Armed?" said North slowly.
+
+"Yes.  Why, you might have sent a bullet through me.  Well, I am glad
+that confounded tooth kept me awake.  It has given me a chance of seeing
+you.  Why, I had only just lain down in my clothes, after stamping about
+the room till I was afraid I should disturb the house.  Give me
+something for it, there's a good fellow."
+
+North hesitated for a few moments, trembling lest he should say words
+that would excite his cousin's attention; but at last he rose with one
+hand across his eyes.
+
+"What, are your eyes so bad?" said Cousin Thompson.
+
+"Yes," was the laconic reply; and North went to the surgery, took a
+small bottle from a drawer, the clink of a stopper or two was heard, and
+a peculiar smell arose, as Thompson noted, with eager eyes, how his
+cousin kept his back to him while dropping a small quantity from each of
+the bottles he took down.
+
+"Can you see?" said Cousin Thompson, holding the candle.
+
+"Yes, I can see, thank you," said North, replacing the bottles on the
+shelf, and fitting a cork to that he held, before labelling it "poison."
+
+"Rub a little of that upon the outside of your face; it will allay the
+pain."
+
+"It's awfully good of you," said Thompson smoothly, "specially now
+you're so ill.  Thanks.  Rub a little outside, don't you say?  I suppose
+this `poison' is only a scarecrow.  It wouldn't hurt me if I took the
+lot."
+
+"No," said North quietly.  "It would not hurt you.  The sensation would
+he rather pleasant."
+
+"I thought as much," said Cousin Thompson, who, while he played with the
+bottle, watched North narrowly.
+
+"But," added the doctor impressively, "I should make my will first, if I
+were you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because to-morrow morning you would be past the power of doing so."
+
+"Oh, I say, old fellow, is it so bad as that?  Make my will, eh?
+Physician, heal thyself!  Why, you haven't made yours."
+
+"No," said North quietly; "I have not made mine.  Good night, I am going
+to my room."
+
+"One moment--shall I see you to-morrow?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, the next day, then?"
+
+"Doubtful," said North hurriedly, and he walked brusquely by his cousin
+to hurry to the staircase, and up to his own room.
+
+"I thought not," muttered Cousin Thompson.  "That was a good bold shot
+right in the bull's-eye.  Now, Master Horace, the old adage is going to
+be proved.  Every dog has his day, and this dog is going to have his.
+How many times have you lent him money in a cursed grudging,
+curmudgeon-like spirit?  How often have I come here, worn out with worry
+and scheming to get an honest living, and you have received me--you
+rolling in riches--with a churlish hospitality such as I should have
+thrown back at you if I had not been so poor?  Never mind, my dear boy;
+the world turns round, and those who are down to-day are up to-morrow.
+I can make Squire Tom squeak to a pretty tune whenever I like, and the
+widow--well, she's not a bad sort of woman to come and sit in the nest
+she has helped to line.  `Manor House, Duke's Hampton: Manor House,
+Duke's Hampton!'  Not a bad address.  There are worse things than being
+a country gentleman--county magistrate is the proper term.  Yes, my dear
+cousin, things look brighter than they have looked for years.  What a
+blessed thing is the British law, especially where a medical question
+comes in.  The fruit's about ripe, and if I do not stretch out my hand
+to pick it, why, I must be a fool."
+
+"Fool!" he said, as he stood there smiling, with the lighted candle in
+his hand, casting strange shadows upon the lower portions of his
+countenance.  "Fool--fool--fool!  No," he said softly, as he shook his
+head.  "I have a few failings: I am a little weak.  I admire a soft,
+plump, pleasant-looking widow--with money--like Mrs Berens.  I like
+money--plenty of money, and I like Duke's Hampton; but those are only
+amiable weaknesses, and I don't think I'm a fool."
+
+He held up the candle and looked round as if enjoying the sense of
+possession, and his eyes rested on the good old-fashioned furniture, the
+choice selection of books, a bronze or two, and a couple of paintings by
+a master hand: all of which his twinkling eyes seemed to appraise and
+catalogue at a glance.
+
+"Yes," he said, smiling softly, "things look a good deal brighter now,
+and I like Duke's Hampton quite well enough to come and live in--with a
+wife."
+
+He took a step or two towards the door, and paused once more, evidently
+enjoying his self-communings.
+
+"_No_!  There was a decision about that _no_ which I liked, my dear
+cousin.  No: he has not made his will.  But it does not matter, my dear
+boy--not in the least, for, as far as I know, you are not going to die."
+
+His face lost its smile here, and he took the little bottle he had
+received softly from his pocket, and held it to the light.
+
+"_Poison.  For outward application only_."
+
+He read the words slowly.
+
+"Yes," he said, "that would be a dangerous thing in the hands of some
+men who saw a life standing between them and a goodly property.  But no,
+my pretty drops!  You may go back again.  Not for me.  I am a lawyer,
+and I know the law.  What idiots some men have been, and at what cost to
+themselves!  But, then, they were not lawyers, and did not know the law.
+Now, then, for a good night's rest.  And to-morrow.  Hah!"
+
+Volume 3, Chapter X.
+
+A VISIT IN THE DARK.
+
+"I don't like it, Mary.  North has completely shut himself up.  He will
+not even see Mrs Milt, so she tells me, and she is getting very uneasy
+about his state."
+
+Mary looked up at her brother.  She could not trust herself to speak.
+
+"I pity him, and yet I feel annoyed and hurt, for I gave him credit for
+greater strength of mind."
+
+Mary felt that she knew what was coming, but she dared not open her
+lips.
+
+"Of course it was very painful to find out the woman he had made his
+idol was trifling with him, but I should have thought that Horace North
+would have proved himself to be a man of the world, borne his burden
+patiently, and been enough of a philosopher to go on his way without
+breaking down."
+
+"But he is very ill."
+
+"Ill!" said Salis.  "I feel disposed to go and shake him, and rouse him
+up.  To tell him that this is not manly on his part."
+
+"And yet you own that he is suffering, Hartley."
+
+"Suffering?  Yes; but he has no business to be suffering about a woman
+like--there, there, I am forgetting myself.  Poor fellow! he must be
+very ill.  You see, the upset came when he was worn out with the study
+and intricacies of that pet theory of his, and hence it is that he is
+now so low."
+
+Mary lay back with her eyes half closed for some time, and there was
+silence in the room.
+
+"Where is Leo?" said Salis, at length.
+
+"In her room--reading."
+
+"Thank Heaven she seems to be settling down calmly now.  Surely this
+life-storm is past, Mary."
+
+"I pray that it may be, Hartley," she said softly; but there was a
+shadow of doubt in her words.
+
+"Well," said Salis, rising, "I must go and have a look round."
+
+"Going out, dear?"
+
+"Yes.  I seem to have been very neglectful of the people lately."
+
+"Stop a minute, Hartley," said Mary, with a vivid colour in her cheeks.
+
+"You want to say something?"
+
+"Yes, dear; I wish--I wish to speak to you about Dr North."
+
+"Well, what about him, my child?"
+
+"Hartley, when we were ill, he was always here.  No pains seemed to be
+too great for him to take."
+
+"Yes, no man could have been more attentive."
+
+"And now, Hartley, he, too, is ill--seriously ill."
+
+"Yes, I'm afraid so."
+
+"Then don't you think it is a duty to try everything possible to help
+him in turn?"
+
+"Of course, and I have tried; but what can I do?  He will not see me,
+and that cousin of his, who, by the way, seems to have a great deal of
+business with Mrs Berens, evidently does not want me there."
+
+"But ought you to study that, Hartley, when your friend is ill?"
+
+"I have thought all this out, Mary, and I feel sometimes as if I could
+do nothing.  You see it is like this: I feel certain that North does not
+want to see me."
+
+"Why, dear?" said Mary earnestly.
+
+"Because it reminds him too much of his trouble with Leo.  He feels that
+very bitterly, and I know my presence would bring it up.  Would it not
+be better to keep away, and let his nerves settle themselves?"
+
+"No," said Mary, in a quiet, firm way.  "It was no fault of yours.  It
+was Dr North's own seeking, and he needs help.  Go to him, Hartley."
+
+"Go to him?"
+
+"Yes.  He must be in sore trouble in every way.  You say his cousin is
+there?"
+
+"Yes, and if I went much I should quarrel with that man."
+
+"No, no; you must not quarrel.  But recollect how Horace North used to
+say that he felt obliged to be civil to him, but he wished he would not
+come."
+
+"Yes: I remember."
+
+"Then go to him, and be at his side, dear, in case he requires help and
+counsel.  Remember you are his friend.  Even if he seemed querulous and
+fretful, I should stay."
+
+"You are right, Mary; I'll go.  I shall have some one to help me in Mrs
+Milt.  I will stand by him."
+
+Mary's eyes brightened, and she held out her hand.
+
+"He will thank you some day, dear; even if he seems strange now."
+
+"He may say what he likes and do what he likes," said Salis warmly.  "I
+ought not to have needed telling this; but I'm going to make up for past
+neglect now and play the part of dog."
+
+Salis was a little late in his promise to play the part of watch-dog for
+his friend, for as he walked up to the Manor House it was to meet a
+carriage just driving out.
+
+"The fly from the `Bull' at King's Hampton and a pair of horses," said
+Salis as he walked on, apparently paying no heed to the inmates of the
+carriage.  "Now, whoever would these be?  White cravat, one of them; the
+other thin, spare, and dark.  Doctors, for a sovereign, I'd say, if I
+were not a parson."
+
+Mrs Milt opened the door to him, and showed him into the drawing-room,
+whose window looked down the back-garden with its great clump of
+evergreens and shady walks, beyond which were the meadows through which
+the river ran.
+
+"I'm very glad," said Salis eagerly; "your master has had a couple of
+doctors to see him, has he not?"
+
+"No, sir; oh, dear, no!" said the housekeeper sadly.  "If you would only
+see him, and persuade him to, and get him to see a clever man, sir, it
+would be the best day's work you ever did."
+
+"I'll try, Mrs Milt," said Salis; "but I'm disappointed."
+
+"So am I, sir.  He wants doing good to, instead of trying to do good to
+other people.  Those are some friends of Mr Thompson, sir.  One of
+them's got a very curious complaint that Mr Thompson said master was
+almost the only man who knew how to cure."
+
+"And did he see them?"
+
+"Yes, sir, after a great deal of persuasion, and almost a quarrel, sir.
+I could hear master and Mr Thompson, sir, talking through the door, and
+he said master ought to be ashamed of himself if he let a gentleman who
+was suffering come down from town and drive all the way across from
+King's Hampton in the hope of being cured, and then let him go back
+without seeing him."
+
+"Yes, Mrs Milt; go on," said the curate eagerly.
+
+"Well, sir, after a long fight Mr Thompson went away, but he went and
+tried again and master gave way directly, and went down in his
+dressing-gown, looking all white and scared, and saw those two gentlemen
+who have just gone away."
+
+"Well, I'm glad of that--heartily glad," said Salis.  "It is the thin
+end of the wedge, Mrs Milt, and we have good cause to be grateful to
+Mr Thompson for what he has done.  Seeing patients again!  This is good
+news indeed.  He will see me now."
+
+Mrs Milt shook her head.
+
+"I'm afraid not, sir."
+
+"I must be a patient."
+
+"You, sir?  Why, you look the picture of health."
+
+"But I have been very patient, Mrs Milt," said Salis, laughing.
+
+"Ah, sir, and so have I," said the housekeeper dolefully: "and a deal
+I've suffered, what with master's illness, and my conscience."
+
+The old lady put her apron to her eyes, and gave vent to a low sob.
+
+"Your conscience, Mrs Milt," said Salis, smiling.  "Why, I should have
+thought that was clear enough."
+
+"Clear, sir?  Oh, no!  It's many a bitter night I've spent thinking of
+my temper, and the way I've worried poor master when he's had all his
+work on his shoulders.  I've helped to make him what he is.  Oh, there's
+that man, sir!"
+
+She drew the curate within and closed the door, for steps were heard,
+and Cousin Thompson passed round from the back-garden to go down to the
+gate.
+
+"He's gone out, sir; and I'll try now if master will see you.  It
+worries him dreadfully his cousin being here, and it always did."
+
+Closing and fastening the door the housekeeper led the way to the
+first-floor landing, and, signing to Salis to be silent, she tapped
+gently at the doctor's door.
+
+The moment before they had faintly heard the sound of some one pacing to
+and fro, but at the first tap on the door this ceased.  There was no
+answer.
+
+The housekeeper knocked again, and in simple, old English, country
+fashion called gently:
+
+"Master, master!"
+
+Still there was no response; but she persevered, and knocked again.
+
+"Master, master!"
+
+"Yes, what is it?" came from within; and Mrs Milt turned and gave the
+curate a satisfied nod, as she said:
+
+"Mr Salis, sir.  He would like to see you."
+
+There was a pause, and then hoarsely: "Tell Mr Salis I am ill, and can
+see no one."
+
+The curate was about to speak, but Mrs Milt hastily raised her hand.
+
+"But I'm sure he'd like to see you very much, sir.  Mr Thompson's gone
+out."
+
+"Tell Mr Salis--"
+
+There was a pause, and the curate went close to the door.
+
+"North, old fellow," he said gently; "don't turn your back on all your
+friends.  What have I done to be treated thus?"
+
+There was another pause, during which those on the landing listened
+anxiously fulsome response from within.
+
+But all remained perfectly still, and Salis ventured to appeal again.
+
+"I will not stop longer than you like, old fellow," he said; "but I am
+uneasy, and--"
+
+He was interrupted by the sharp snap made by the lock of the door.  Then
+the handle was turned, and a long slit of darkness was revealed.
+
+"Come in," said a harsh voice; and Salis turned and gave Mrs Milt a
+satisfied nod and smile, as he entered North's room and closed the door.
+
+The sensation was strange, that passing from broad daylight into intense
+darkness, and Salis tried to recall the configuration of the room, and
+the position of window and bed, as he felt North brush past him, and
+lock the door.
+
+For it was evident that an attempt had been made to exclude every ray of
+light, and not without success.
+
+"Well, I am glad--I was going to say to see you, old fellow," cried
+Salis.  "Hadn't you better open the curtains and the window?  This room
+smells very faint."
+
+"Brandy spilt," said North, alluding to his accident of many days
+before.
+
+"Brandy?  Why, the place smells of laudanum and chloroform, and goodness
+knows what besides."
+
+"You wanted to speak to me," said North.
+
+"Yes, I've a great deal to say; but I should like to sit down."
+
+"There is a chair on your left."
+
+"Ah, yes.  Thanks," said Salis, feeling about until he touched it, and
+sitting down.  "Where are you?"
+
+"Sitting on the bed."
+
+"Well, I suppose you have a reason for this blind-man's-buff work.  Eyes
+bad?"
+
+"Very."
+
+"May I say a few words to you about getting advice?"
+
+"Aren't you afraid of shutting yourself up with me here in the dark?
+There are razors in that drawer.  There's a bottle of prussic acid on
+the dressing-table.  Why, parson, you're a fool!"
+
+The voice seemed changed, and this speech was followed by a curious
+mocking laugh which ran through Salis and made him shrink; but he
+recovered himself directly.
+
+"No," he said stoutly; "I am not afraid."
+
+"No, you are not afraid," came softly from out of the darkness.
+
+"Come, North, old fellow," continued Salis; "we are old friends.  You
+have helped me when I have been in sore distress; forgive me, now that I
+know you are in trouble, for thrusting myself upon you."
+
+"I have nothing to forgive."
+
+"Then let me help you.  Believe me that Mary and I are both terribly
+concerned about your health.  Tell me what I can do."
+
+There was a pause; then a low, piteous sigh; and from out of the
+darkness came the word--
+
+"Nothing--!"
+
+"I can't understand your complaint, of course, old fellow; but tell me
+one thing.  Are you sufficiently _compos mentis_ to know what to do for
+yourself for the best?"
+
+"Quite, Salis, quite," said North slowly.
+
+"And you are ill, and are carrying out a definite line of action?"
+
+"I am doing what is really--what is for the best."
+
+"And you do not need help--additional advice?"
+
+"If I did, a letter or telegram would bring down a couple of London's
+most eminent men; but they could do nothing."
+
+Salis sighed.
+
+"But can I do nothing?"
+
+"Only help me to have perfect rest and peace."
+
+"But about your patients?  Moredock is complaining bitterly."
+
+"My patients must go elsewhere," said North slowly.  "I cannot see
+anybody."
+
+"Don't think I am moved by curiosity; but are you sure that you are
+doing what is best for yourself?"
+
+"Quite sure.  Let me cure myself my own way, and--and--"
+
+"Well--what, old fellow?" said Salis, for the doctor had ceased
+speaking.
+
+"Don't take any notice of what I say at times.  I've--I've been working
+a little too hard, and--at times--"
+
+"Yes, at times?"
+
+"I feel a little delirious, and say things I should not say at other
+times--times I say, at other times."
+
+There was a singularity in his utterance, and his repetitions, which
+struck Salis; and these broken sentences were strange even to the verge
+of being terrible, coming as they did out of the darkness before him.
+
+"Oh, yes; I understand," he hastened to say cheerfully.  "I know, old
+fellow.  Want a wet towel about your head and rest."
+
+"Yes--and rest," said North quietly.
+
+"Rest and plenty of sleep.  I set your disorder down to that," said
+Salis, as a feeling of uneasiness which he could not master seemed to
+increase.  At one moment he felt that his friend was not in a proper
+condition to judge what was best for him; at another he concluded that
+he was; and that, after all, it was a strange thing that a man could not
+do as he liked in his own house, even to shutting himself up in a dark
+room to rest his eyes.
+
+A strange silence had fallen upon the place, and, in spite of his
+efforts, Salis could not bear it.  A dozen subjects sprang to his lips,
+and he was about to utter them, but he felt that they would be
+inappropriate; and as North remained perfectly silent, and the uneasy
+feeling consequent upon sitting there in the darkness, conversing, as it
+were, with the invisible, increasing, Salis rose.
+
+"Well," he said, "I'm glad I came, old fellow.  I haven't bothered you
+much?"
+
+"No."
+
+"And I may come again?"  A pause.  Then--"Yes."
+
+"And you'll see me?"
+
+"I cannot see you.  I shall be glad if you'll come.  I feel safer and
+better when you are here."
+
+Salis winced a little.  Then a thought struck him.
+
+"Look here, old fellow.  Come and stay with us for a change."
+
+North seemed to start violently, and Salis felt how grave a mistake he
+had made.  For the moment he had forgotten everything about Leo, and he
+bit his lip at his folly.
+
+"No.  Go now."
+
+"Will you shake hands?"
+
+"No, no," said North passionately.  "Go, man; go now.  Don't come again
+for some days."
+
+"As you will, North; only remember this--a message will fetch me at any
+time.  You will summon me if I can be of any use?"
+
+North seemed to utter some words of assent, and then Salis heard a faint
+rustling sound approaching in the darkness, which, in spite of his
+manhood and firmness, made the curate wince, as he felt how much he was
+at North's mercy if this complaint took an unpleasant mental turn.
+
+But the rustling was explained directly after by the click of the
+door-lock.  Then a pale bar of light shone into the room as the opening
+enlarged, and as it was evidently held ready Salis passed out, the door
+closed sharply behind him, the lock snapped into its place, and he
+shuddered as he heard a low, mocking laugh, followed by the vibration of
+the floor as the invalid began to pace rapidly up and down.
+
+"What ought I to do?" muttered Salis, as he stood irresolutely upon the
+mat, till he felt a touch upon his arm, and, turning, found that Mrs
+Milt had evidently been waiting for him to come out.
+
+"Well, sir?" she whispered, as they went down.
+
+"Well, Mrs Milt?"
+
+"You don't think that he is--a little--you don't think that is coming
+on?"
+
+"What, lunacy?"  The housekeeper nodded.  "Absurd, Mrs Milt!" cried
+Salis, "absurd!"
+
+"Thank goodness, sir!"
+
+"A little out of order and eccentric.  But what made you ask that
+question?"
+
+"Well, sir, it was something Mr Thompson said."
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XI.
+
+SALIS MAKES A DISCOVERY.
+
+"I cannot interfere, really, my dear Mary--I cannot interfere.  Mrs
+Berens is a friend of yours, and one of my parishioners, but what can I
+do?"
+
+"She is alone in the world, and in great trouble."
+
+"But here is a foolish woman; goes and listens to a plausible lawyer,
+and makes at his suggestion a number of investments, and then repents
+and comes to the parson."
+
+"Well, to whom better?" said Mary, smiling.
+
+"For advice over her sins it would be right enough," said Salis.
+
+"I don't think Mrs Berens has any.  If so, dear, they must be only
+small ones."
+
+"But to come to the parson for help on money matters is absurd.  This is
+the third time she has been."
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"It is not as if the investments had gone wrong."
+
+"No, dear; she mistrusts Mr Thompson."
+
+"Perhaps without reason.  Let her get the money back, then, at as little
+loss as she can, and put it in consols."
+
+"There, you see, you can give good advice, Hartley."
+
+"Oh, any noodle could give advice like that.  It isn't perfect."
+
+"No, dear," said Mary sadly; "for Mrs Berens says that this Mr
+Thompson tells her it is impossible to withdraw now, and it seems he has
+been very angry with her--almost threatening."
+
+"Confound his insolence!"
+
+"He told her she ought not to have invested if she meant to change her
+mind, and that she is making a fool of him."
+
+"Impossible!" said Salis sharply.  "She might make him a rogue."
+
+"You will help her, will you not, Hartley?"
+
+"Well, I'll see what I can do; but I shall be an unfair advocate, for I
+hate that man."
+
+"And you will go and see Mr North to-day."
+
+"Perhaps," said Salis.  "He faithfully promised to send for me when I
+could be of any use, and I may do more harm than good by forcing myself
+there."
+
+Three days had passed since the last visit, and the suspicions which had
+flashed through the curate's brain had faded away as soon as he had
+found himself questioned by Mary, and felt how much she would be alarmed
+if he alluded to several little matters in connection with his
+interview.
+
+"The fact is," he had said to himself, "my imagination is too active,
+and I am ready to invent horrors and troubles which are never likely to
+exist."
+
+It had been a busy morning, for one of the rector's customary lectures
+on the management of the parish had arrived; and it was only by Mary's
+special request that a sharp retort had not been sent back to a remark
+in the rector's letter to the effect that he was glad Mr Salis had
+taken his advice respecting his sister's appearance in the
+hunting-field, and had put down the unnecessary horse.
+
+"It makes me feel disposed to go and borrow of Horace North, and
+immediately set up a carriage and pair, with servants in livery of
+mustard and washing blue."
+
+This was an attempt at being comic in allusion to the rector's showy
+liveries, which generally created a sensation in King's Hampton when he
+came down to the neighbouring place and went for a drive.
+
+Mary smiled and went on with her work.
+
+"How is Leo this morning?"
+
+"Much better, I think.  She was sitting with me for a long time
+yesterday evening.  Hartley, I am sure she is undergoing a great
+change."
+
+"I am very glad, dear," said Salis sadly.
+
+"She seemed so quiet and affectionate to me."
+
+"Why, of course.  Who would not be?" said the curate affectionately.
+
+"She seemed unwilling to leave me, and kissed me very tenderly when she
+went to bed."
+
+"I'm very glad, dear," said Salis; "but I wish she would give up
+confining herself so to her room.  It will grow into a habit."
+
+"Let us wait," said Mary.  "Yes, dear," said Salis, looking sadly from
+the window as he dwelt upon the lives of his two sisters.  "Time cures a
+great many ills."
+
+"Yes," said Mary gravely.  "What did Moredock want this morning?"
+
+"Wine," said Salis shortly.  "And it's my belief the old rascal can
+afford to buy it far better than I can."
+
+"And you gave him some?"
+
+"No," said Salis, with a droll look; "the last bottle in number one bin,
+of the four we stood up six weeks ago, went to poor Sally Drugate."
+
+"To be sure, yes," said Mary.  "She had two of the others, had she not?"
+
+"Yes, dear," said Salis, who was trying hard to get a hair out of his
+pen.  "Old Mrs Soames had the other.  By the way, Mary, oughtn't we to
+have laid down that wine?"
+
+"I believe wine drinkers do generally lay down wine," said Mary,
+smiling.  "But what difference does it make?"
+
+"They say it keeps better," said the curate drily.  "Ours keeps very
+badly.  By the way, Moredock incidentally gave me a bit of news."
+
+"What, dear?"
+
+"Tom Candlish has gone from the Hall for a tour they say, to restore his
+health."
+
+"Left the Hall?"
+
+"Yes, and I hope it will be many months before he returns."
+
+"Yes," said Mary softly; "it will be better.  There, now you will go on
+and see Mr North."
+
+"Oh, dear! who would be a slave?" sighed the curate.  "Yes, madam, I
+will go, and when I come back I ought to go and see Mrs Berens, and
+then I shall be led into acts which will cause Mr Thompson to commence
+an action against me.  Result: ruin, and our quitting Duke's Hampton."
+
+"Did you not say to me that your imagination was too active?" said Mary,
+smiling.
+
+"Yes, I did.  What then?"
+
+"You were quite right," said Mary; "it is."
+
+Salis laughed and went on his mission, but in half-an-hour he was back,
+and Mary looked up at him wonderingly.
+
+"Back so soon?" she said; and then with her heart beating frightfully,
+and a look of agony in her face that came as a revelation to Salis, she
+stretched out her hands to her brother, her fingers twitching
+spasmodically, as she uttered a wild cry, which brought him to her feet.
+
+"Mary!  My dear child!  Be calm!" he panted, for he was evidently out of
+breath.
+
+"Speak!" she cried.  "Have pity on my helplessness.  I am chained here
+by my affliction, and depend on you alone.  Don't torture me--don't keep
+me in suspense.  Horace North?"
+
+"Yes; only be calm, dear."
+
+"You are temporising," cried the poor girl wildly, as she clung to his
+hands and began to kiss them passionately.  "Hartley--Hartley, for
+pity's sake, speak!"
+
+"If you will only be calm," he cried angrily.  "This is hysterical
+madness.  You are hindering me when I come back to you for help and
+advice."
+
+Mary uttered a piteous moan, and set her teeth, as she clung still to
+her brother's hands.
+
+"Tell me the worst," she implored.  "I can bear that more easily than
+this suspense."
+
+Salis gazed at his sister more wildly, as he, for the first time, read,
+in her anguished looks and broken words, the secret which she had kept
+so well.
+
+For the moment he was as one in a nightmare.  He strove to speak, but
+something seemed to keep him dumb, while all the time she kept on
+moaning appeal after appeal to him to tell her all.
+
+"I thought little of it then," he said; "but now the idea seems to have
+grown stronger and more terrible.  Words he used which I did not heed
+then seem to bear a terrible import now, and I cannot help thinking that
+something ought to be done."
+
+"You saw him just now?" said Mary hastily.
+
+"No, but I spoke with Mrs Milt, and she is terribly uneasy.  Mary,
+dear, for your own sake, spare me this."
+
+"No," said the suffering woman sternly; "you can tell me nothing so bad
+as I shall imagine if you are silent.  Tell me the very worst.  He is
+dead?"
+
+"No, no, no!" cried Salis; "but I fear for him.  He is not in a
+condition to be left, and yet, strive how I may, I cannot get him to
+listen to reason."
+
+"But you have not seen him again?"
+
+"No; he is now shut up in the library, and Mrs Milt has a terrible
+account of his eccentricity; she fears that he is going--"
+
+"No, no, no!  Don't say that," cried Mary; "it is too horrible.  But
+quick!  What are you going to do?"
+
+"Drive over to King's Hampton, take the train to Lowcaster, and come
+back with two of the principal physicians."
+
+"No," said Mary sharply.  "Telegraph at once to Mr Delton.  Tell him
+his friend North is in urgent need of his help.  He believes in North,
+and looks upon him almost as a son.  His advice will be worth that of a
+dozen Lowcaster physicians."
+
+"Mary, you're a pearl among women," cried Salis.
+
+"Don't stop to speak," she cried, with an energy that startled him.
+"Your friend's life--his reason--is in peril.  Go!"
+
+"My friend; the man that poor broken-spirited creature loves," muttered
+Salis, as he hurried away, and was soon after urging his hired pony to a
+gallop.
+
+"Oh, what moles we men are!" he said, as the hedges and trees flew by
+him.  "But who could have suspected her of caring for him?  Lying
+crushed and broken there, and no one suspecting the agonies she must
+have suffered."
+
+Realising by slow degrees the depth of his sister's love for North, and
+the life she must have led, Salis urged the pony on to reach King's
+Hampton at last, and hurry to the post-office, to despatch his telegram
+beseeching the old doctor to send a reply; and for this he determined to
+sit down and wait, but only to pace the coffee-room of the nearest
+hotel, with his mind a chaos of bewildering ideas, as he wondered what
+was to be the end of this new trouble which had come upon his house.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XII.
+
+A STORMY INTERVIEW.
+
+The old housekeeper had indeed a long series of eccentricities to record
+to Salis, speaking freely to him, as to her master's firmest friend,
+though what she knew and had diminished in intensity more than magnified
+was but a tithe of that which had occurred.
+
+For it had been a terrible period for the young doctor.  Half wrecked by
+the mental and bodily injuries he had received, the course he had
+pursued in shutting himself up alone, dreading to be surprised in
+suddenly uttering some wild speech or committing some vagary, had
+intensified the abnormal condition of his brain till his sufferings
+seemed to grow unbearable.
+
+One hour he felt at peace, the next he had none, and asked himself what
+he was to do to escape the terrible unseen presence that was always with
+him, never addressing him, but, as it were, making his body the medium
+by which he communicated with the world.
+
+"I can bear it no longer," North said to himself at last.  "There must
+be rest for me if I cannot shake it off."
+
+He shuddered slightly as he paced his darkened room, knowing
+instinctively how many steps to take in each direction, and what to
+avoid.  For Death, familiar as it was to him, was not without its
+terrors.
+
+He was so young, and, as it seemed now, the hopes of the past arose once
+more before him, the faith in the prizes of fame which he would win, his
+love for Leo, and the promises which had led him on.
+
+But so sure as these thoughts assumed form there was another to rise
+like a dense cloud of horror and cover everything, as he felt that, come
+what might, he would be haunted ever by this unseen presence--the spirit
+which he had freed from its envelope of clay--and this could have but
+one end.
+
+He felt that he had tried everything.  He had forced himself to
+calmness, and marked out course after course of treatment such as he
+would have prescribed to some poor wretch who had consulted him in such
+a case; and when all was still at night he had stolen down to his
+surgery, and mingled for his own use sedatives and tonics, but all to no
+effect.  If anything, his malady increased.
+
+Two days before Salis had gone over to King's Hampton, Cousin Thompson
+came once more to his bedroom door, to beg that he would come down and
+see his friend.
+
+"It is impossible," he had replied hoarsely.
+
+"But he has come down again, vastly improved by your treatment; and
+without you he feels that he would be a dying man.  Come, you cannot
+refuse."
+
+North held out for a time, and at last gave way, more from the desire of
+getting rid of his cousin and the patient than from any wish to repeat
+his advice.
+
+"I'll come this time," he said; "but this visit must be final.  There
+are hundreds of doctors who can advise the man better than I."
+
+"Doubtless," said Cousin Thompson; "but that is not the point.  There is
+not one in any of those hundreds in whom my poor friend will have the
+faith that he has in you."
+
+The argument was unanswerable.
+
+"I will be down in a few minutes," North said; and trying hard to master
+the nervous feeling which came over him, and wondering whether he could
+get through the interview without some absurd utterance, he drew aside
+the blind to accustom his eyes once more to the light.
+
+It was some moments before he could face it, and then he looked
+despairingly at the wan, haggard face before him in the glass.
+
+He shrank from it at first, but looked again and again, without the
+feeling of horror that had pervaded him before.  His countenance was
+changed, and terribly wan and drawn; eyes and cheeks were sunken, so
+that the former seemed set in deep, cavernous holes; but as he gazed he
+did not seem to dread the sound of mocking laughter, or of some strange
+utterance which he could not control, and proceeded to make himself
+somewhat more presentable for those below.
+
+"And they come to me for help," he muttered, "who want it more than any
+man on earth."
+
+As he opened his door he frowned, for he caught sight of the old
+housekeeper hastily beating a retreat, and a shiver ran through him as
+he felt how he was watched.
+
+But he went on down into the hall, where a low murmur of voices told him
+that his visitors were in the drawing-room.
+
+What followed was a matter of a minute or two.
+
+He entered the room quickly, his coming having been unheard; and Cousin
+Thompson, who was speaking earnestly to the two gentlemen from town,
+started quickly away and then said hastily:
+
+"Ah, North!  Why, you seem better.  Let me get you a chair.  You want no
+introductions, and I'll leave you together."
+
+He approached North with a chair, and the latter took it, gazing keenly
+at the visitors the while; but as Thompson was passing he caught him by
+the collar and checked him, holding him fast, as he threw the chair from
+him with a crash.
+
+Thompson turned white as so much curd, and tried for a moment to
+extricate himself, but his cousin's grasp was like iron, and he turned a
+pitiable face to the two visitors, the taller of whom advanced quickly.
+
+"My dear Dr North," he said, "pray be calm.  Another seat, my dear sir;
+pray sit down."
+
+North seemed as if he had not heard him.  He had searchingly gazed from
+one to the other, and then his eyes appeared to blaze as his left hand
+joined his right at Thompson's throat.
+
+"You cursed, treacherous, cowardly hound!" he literally yelled, and
+dashing him backward, so that he fell with a crash against a table,
+which was overturned, North strode from the room without another word,
+and made the house echo with the bang he gave the door.
+
+Thompson did not attempt to rise till the visitors held out their hands
+to assist him to a couch.
+
+"My dear sir, are you hurt?" asked the first man.
+
+"Hurt!" cried Thompson savagely.  "Could you be half strangled and then
+thrown down without being hurt?  But you see now.  You doubted before:
+you see now."
+
+"Yes, perfectly," said the second visitor calmly.  "Oh, yes, I think
+that we are quite satisfied now.  What do you say?"
+
+"Perfectly," said the first slowly; and as soon as the lawyer had
+satisfied himself that he was not seriously hurt, they adjourned to the
+library, where Mrs Milt was summoned to provide sherry and biscuits;
+and soon after the two visitors re-entered their carriage, and were
+driven back to King's Hampton in time to catch the first train back to
+town.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XIII.
+
+MRS MILT TAKES UP LUNCH.
+
+"The last hope gone!" cried North, as he rushed upstairs and entered his
+room, to close and lock the door, overcome, as it were, with a
+despairing dread.
+
+"I might have known it," he panted excitedly.  "The cruel, treacherous
+hound!  I might have known that he had some hidden meaning in what he
+was doing.  Friend from town--no faith in any one but me, forsooth!  And
+I such a miserable, easily deceived child that I was ready to believe it
+all."
+
+Without thinking of what he did, he seated himself at the
+dressing-table, rested his elbows thereon, and gazed straight before him
+in the glass, but without seeing his distorted, haggard face.
+
+"And it has come to that!" he groaned.
+
+He, in his cunning, is taking all the necessary steps, such as a legal
+practitioner would know to be necessary, and I am to be carried off on
+these men's certificates to some death in life, while my affectionate
+Cousin Thompson takes possession here.
+
+"And he could," he mused; "everything has been arranged for him.  I am
+not mad; I am perfectly sane, but, Heaven knows, I am acting like a
+madman--like one possessed.  I go always with this terrible shadow
+enveloping me, and I cannot shake it off, try how I may.
+
+"What shall I do?
+
+"Salis!  No, I cannot tell him.  Mr Delton?  No, no, no!  I could not
+speak out.  What would they say?  They must declare it to be a mania if
+I tell them the simple truth, and how dare I confess to having
+instituted those experiments on Luke Candlish?
+
+"Was ever man so cursed for his endeavours?  I have branded myself as
+one who is mad, and I must bear the stigma."
+
+He clenched his fist and glared before him, recalling the scene in his
+drawing-room, and burst into a scornful laugh--a laugh so full of savage
+anger that he started and looked wildly about him in dread.
+
+He calmed down though in a few minutes, and sat repeating the words that
+had passed.
+
+"I must have been blind not to have seen it before," he cried aloud;
+"and now what is to follow?"
+
+He looked up at the light shining down through the drawn curtain, and
+hurriedly shut it out, to reseat himself and think.
+
+Flight!  Yes, he could easily escape from his cousin and his
+machinations--the Continent--America--or he might boldly face him, and
+prove that the charge of lunacy was without basis.
+
+But how, when he dared not show his face anywhere lest he should betray
+himself before his fellow-men?
+
+"It is of no use," he sighed bitterly; "I am conquered and I must
+succumb.
+
+"But Cousin Thompson?
+
+"Curse him!" he cried passionately, as he rose and began his old
+wild-beast tramp again.  "What fate is too bad for such a man?  Why did
+I not keep my hold when I had him by the throat?"
+
+He stopped short, and in a paroxysm of mental agony threw himself upon a
+chair, nerveless, helpless, ready to give up and think that his cousin
+was right, and that the sooner he was placed under restraint the better,
+or else sought that other way of escape from his troubles.
+
+As he writhed there in his agony, Mrs Milt was coming up the stairs
+with a tray covered with a fair white napkin, and on which was a covered
+dish exhaling an odour which the old dame had settled in her own mind
+would be certain to tempt her master.
+
+"Poor fellow!" she said to herself; "he's half starving himself, and
+perhaps I've done wrong in letting him have his own way.  I ought to
+have gone up and made him eat.  He'd have scolded and abused me, but I
+should have done him good."
+
+Mrs Milt had nearly reached the room, when she uttered an ejaculation
+of horror, and, setting down the tray upon the carpet, ran swiftly back
+to close a baize door.
+
+"If he heard it," she half sobbed, "he would think poor master mad, and
+heaven knows what would happen then."
+
+She hurried again to where she had left the tray, and then on to the
+door, as from within she heard a wild burst of boisterous laughter, and
+then a fierce oath, and the sounds of a struggle, ending in a crash as
+of a table being overturned.
+
+"What shall I do?" groaned the poor woman, as, for the moment, she
+clapped her hands to her face, and stopped her ears, but only to snatch
+them down wildly, as the strange sounds continued.  "He must be alone
+here, and if I call for help they'll say he's mad."
+
+She stood wringing her hands for a time as a terrible scene appeared to
+be taking place within that closed room.  There was the trampling of
+feet--the sound as of a struggle.  North's voice in angry denunciation
+of some one who kept bursting forth into mocking peals of laughter, and
+then shouting as men shout when excited with the chase, till the room
+re-echoed.  Then again North's voice came, as if speaking furiously in a
+low voice, which changed directly afterwards to one of piteous appeal,
+breaking off into a moan.  As the doctor's voice ceased there was
+another mocking laugh, apparently from close by the door, and directly
+after came a crash as if a chair had been used as a weapon, a blow had
+been struck, and the chair shivered.  While vividly painting the scene
+in her own mind, helped as she was by the sounds, the old housekeeper
+seemed to see her master hurl the portion of a broken chair which
+remained in his hands into the corner of the room, where it rattled upon
+the floor.
+
+"There's murder being done," panted the old woman, as she caught at the
+handle of the door now, and stood clinging to it, while she pressed her
+other hand upon her heaving bosom.
+
+As if in answer to her words, there was another coarse burst of
+laughter, and the sound of some one bounding to the door, two hands
+seeming to shake the panel, and her master's voice came through, muffled
+but distinct.
+
+"Curse you!  I have you now!  Is there no way of forcing you back into
+your grave?"
+
+A loud rustling sound as of a struggle which was continued to the other
+side of the room, and the housekeeper's hair felt to her as if something
+cold and strange were moving it, while a deathly perspiration broke out
+upon her face.
+
+"Who is in there with him?" she thought.  "What does it mean?  There
+must be some one there, and murder is being done.  Help! help!" she
+shrieked in her agony of fear, as she rattled the handle of the door,
+and beat upon the panels.  "Help! help!" and then in her horror she
+turned and staggered towards the stairs, as the door was flung open, she
+felt herself seized from behind and dragged into the room, the door
+swinging to, and she was forced backwards in the utter darkness,
+listening to the hoarse sound of the hot breath which fanned her cheek
+as a hand was pressed heavily over her mouth.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XIV.
+
+AN OPPORTUNE ARRIVAL.
+
+"Silence, you mad woman!  Do you want to bring them here?  Do you want
+to have me dragged away like some miserable prisoner?"
+
+"Oh, master--dear master," sobbed the frightened woman piteously, as the
+hand was removed from her lips, and she sank at North's knees and
+embraced them.  "What does it all mean?--what does it all mean?"
+
+"What does all what mean?"
+
+"All that noise--that noise?" sobbed the housekeeper in a broken voice.
+"Have you--have you killed him?"
+
+"Killed him?" cried North harshly.  "Killed whom?  There is no one
+here."
+
+"There is--there is, sir.  I heard it all."
+
+"Hush!" cried North.  "Listen.  Is any one coming?  Did they hear in the
+kitchen?"
+
+"No, sir.  I couldn't bear for any one else but me to hear it all,"
+sobbed the trembling woman.  "I went back and shut the door."
+
+"Then no one has heard--no one knows--but you?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"My cousin?"
+
+"He has gone out, sir."
+
+"Hah!  Then it is a secret still," muttered North.
+
+The old housekeeper struggled to her feet, for his words and manner
+horrified her.  She alone had heard what had taken place, and it seemed
+to her that within a few steps her master's victim must be lying prone,
+and that even her life was not safe now.
+
+Her first instinct was to make for the door, but he had hold of her
+wrist, and she sank once more at his feet, with a low sobbing cry.
+
+"I'm an old woman, now," she cried, "and a year or two more or less
+don't matter much."
+
+The same harsh, mocking laugh broke out again, chilling her to the
+marrow, and then North uttered a hoarse, harsh expiration of the breath,
+and stamped his foot angrily.
+
+Then there was a pause, broken only by the old woman's painful sobs.
+
+"My poor old Milt," said North gently, as he raised her from the ground.
+"Why, what were you thinking--that I would do you any harm?"
+
+"I--I couldn't help it, sir; but--but I don't think so now.  Oh,
+master--dear master, I thought you had killed some one.  What does it
+mean?--what does it mean?"
+
+He did not answer for a few moments, and when he spoke again there was
+an indescribable, mournful sadness in his voice.  "What are you
+thinking?" he said.  She answered with a sob.  "I'll tell you," he said;
+"you think that I am mad."
+
+"No, no, no! master--my great, clever, noble master," cried the old
+woman passionately.  "Only ill--only very ill; and you can cure
+yourself.  Yes, yes; pray say that you can!"
+
+"No," he said bitterly.  "No.  It has come to the worst.  There, go: I
+am worn out, and want to rest."
+
+"But you will let me help you, dear," she said, speaking with the
+tenderness of a mother towards the boy she worshipped with a lavish
+love.  "Let me do something--let me help you, dear.  It is overwork.
+Your poor brain is troubled.  Let me open the window, and let in light
+and air, and then you shall go to bed; and I'll bathe your poor head,
+and you shall tell me what to mix.  You know how I can nurse and tend
+you now you are ill."
+
+North took the old woman's head between his hands as they stood there in
+the darkness, and kissed her on the forehead.
+
+"Yes, the best and gentlest of nurses," he said quietly.
+
+"And you will let me help you, sir?"
+
+"Yes; but not now.  It was a kind of fit you heard--nothing more.  Now
+go.  See that I am not disturbed.  Perhaps I can sleep.  There: you know
+there is no one here."
+
+"Yes, my dear, of course--of course.  I ought to have known better; I
+know now.  And you will try to sleep?"
+
+"Yes--I promise you, yes.
+
+"Let me go down and get something for you; tell me what, and the
+quantities."
+
+"Yes," said North eagerly, for she seemed to be opening before him the
+gates of release from his life of horror; but he shook his head as he
+called to mind how familiar she was with his surgery, and that if he
+bade her mix what he wished, she would turn suspicious and refuse.
+
+"What shall I do, my dear?" said the old woman tenderly.
+
+"Nothing now," he said; "sleep will be best.  Let me go to sleep."
+
+The old housekeeper sighed; but she made no opposition, and let him
+gently lead her to the door and shut her out, where she stood with her
+apron to her eyes, listening for a few moments to the loud snap given by
+the lock, and the dull, low sound of his pacing feet.
+
+Then the old woman seemed to change.
+
+She let fall her apron and tightened her lips.  Her eyes grew keen and
+eager, and she gazed straight before her, deep in thought.
+
+In a few moments her mind was made up.
+
+"He must have proper help," she said softly; and with an activity not to
+be expected of one at her time of life, she hurried up to her bedroom,
+to come out in a few minutes dressed for going out.
+
+"I must fetch help," she said eagerly, and going to North's door she
+listened for a few moments more before hurrying down to the door, when a
+step on the gravel made her utter a cry of joy.
+
+The man she was going to seek was coming up to the house, and the next
+minute she had confided to Salis all she felt and knew, and he had gone
+back to Mary, before hurrying away to telegraph to town.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XV.
+
+DALLY'S PLANS.
+
+"It's little better than murder: it's cruel, that's what it is.  What
+does he mean by being ill and shutting hisself up, and won't see
+anybody?  What right has a doctor to go and be ill?  Yah!"
+
+Old Moredock stared his clock full in the face as it ticked away slowly
+and regularly in the most unconcerned way.
+
+"Yes! go it!" cried the old man, "go on marking it off, all your minutes
+and hours, but I don't mean to die yet, so you needn't think it.  I'm
+not so old as all that, and if doctor 'll only get well, I'll astonish
+some on 'em."
+
+He changed his position, stared at his fire, and laboriously, and with
+many a groan, got down his old leaden tobacco box and pipe, filled
+slowly, lit up, and began to smoke; but somehow he did not seem to enjoy
+his pipe, and removed it again and again to go on muttering to himself.
+
+"Well, suppose I did?  A man must make a few pounds to keep himself out
+of the workhouse.  They should pay the saxon better if they didn't want
+him to.  Tchah!  What's a few old bones?"
+
+There was an interval of smoking, and then the old man resumed his
+complainings.
+
+"Turning ill like that.  What did he go and turn ill like that for, just
+as I wanted him so badly?  It's too bad o' doctor.  I wouldn't ha' let
+him go to the old morslem if I'd known he'd turn queer arterward.  It's
+my b'leef that young Tom Candlish gave him an ugly knock that night.
+But I warn't there.  Hi--hi--hi!  I warn't there.  I didn't want to be
+mixed up with it."
+
+He shifted his seat, and as he did so painfully, his jaw dropped, and he
+sat fixed and staring at the window, where at one corner there was a
+curious, rough-looking object, which remained stationary for some time
+and then moved slowly till first one and then a second eye appeared,
+gazed into the little cottage interior, and slowly descended again.
+
+"Who--who--what's that?" faltered the old man.  "Is it--is it--tchah!
+It's Joe Chegg, peeping and prying again to see if my Dally's here."
+
+Recovering from his scare, the old man smoked away viciously for a time,
+and then grinned hideously.
+
+"If I'd only been well," he muttered, "and that doctor had let me have
+some more of his stuff, I'd ha' took my spade and crope round by the
+back, and I'd ha' come ahint that iddit and give him such a flop.
+Sneaking allus after my Dally, as if it was like she'd wed a thing like
+him."
+
+"Why don't doctor come?" he groaned, as a twinge made him twist
+painfully in his seat.  "It's about murder: that's what it is; and they
+all want to get rid of me now--parson and all; and then things 'll go to
+ruin about the old church.  But they may get a new saxon if they like.
+Let 'em have Joe Chegg: I don't care.  Much good he'll do 'em.  Disgrace
+to the old church: that's what he'll be; and go in o' Sundays smelling
+of paint and putty, till he most drives Parson Salis mad.  Disgrace to
+the church: that's what he'll be.  Eh? eh?  Who's that?  Who's that?
+Hallo!  Eh?  Who's that at the door?  You, Dally?  Oh, you've come at
+last!"
+
+"Yes, gran'fa, I've come at last," said the girl in a sullen tone.
+
+"I might ha' died for all you'd ha' cared," grumbled the old man; "but I
+wouldn't--nay, I wouldn't do that."
+
+Dally made no answer, but plumped herself down on the old shred
+hearthrug, and put her hands round one knee, so as to stare at the fire.
+
+"Well," said the old man after a pause, "ain't you going to speak?"
+
+Dally turned and looked at him sharply, with her brow knit and her mouth
+tightened up; but she only shook her head.
+
+"Never been a-nigh me for three days," grumbled Moredock; "after all
+I've done for you.  But don't you make too sure.  Young 'uns often goes
+'fore old folk, and maybe I'll bury you, and Joe Chegg too, if he don't
+mind what he's about."
+
+Dally paid no heed, but stared at the fire.
+
+"Seen doctor?" said Moredock.
+
+Dally looked round again as if she did not quite hear his question, and
+then shook her head again.
+
+"Never mind; I don't want him," grumbled the old man.  "Let him doctor
+hisself.  I'm not so bad but what I can get well without him.  I'm not
+worn out yet!  I'm not worn out yet!"
+
+Dally paid no heed, and her curious attitude and her silence took the
+old man's attention at last.  He reached round painfully till he could
+get hold of a thick oak stick, whose hook held it upon the back of the
+covered arm-chair.
+
+With this the old man poked at his grandchild to draw her attention to
+him.
+
+"Here, Dally, what's the matter?  Here!"
+
+"Don't!" cried the girl angrily; but he poked at her again.
+
+"Don't, gran'fa! do you hear?" she cried, giving herself a vicious
+twist; but the old man only chuckled, and deliberately changing his hold
+upon his stick, he leaned forward, with one hand upon the arm-chair,
+till he could reach Dally easily as she crouched there, half turned from
+the old sexton, staring thoughtfully at the fire.
+
+The old man chuckled softly as he extended the stick as a shepherd might
+his crook, till he could hook Dally by the neck, and drew her slowly
+towards him, grasping the stick now with both hands.
+
+"Don't, gran'fa!" cried the girl fiercely, as she started up and took
+hold of the stick with both hands, getting her neck out of the hook, and
+struggling with her grandfather for its possession, in which she was
+triumphant, and ending by nearly dragging Moredock from his seat, as she
+made a final snatch, obtained the stick, and threw it viciously across
+the room.
+
+"You--you--you nearly--you fetch that stick!"
+
+"I won't stand it, gran'fa!" cried Dally, ignoring his command, and
+stamping her foot as she stared at him.  "I won't have it!  If he thinks
+he's got a baby to deal with, like Leo Salis, he's mistaken."
+
+"Eh? eh?" croaked the old man, staring at her, and forgetting the stick,
+as he saw the girl's excitement.
+
+"He's not going to play with me, gran'fa, and so I'll tell him."
+
+"Eh?  Who, Dally?  Joe Chegg?"
+
+"He said he'd marry me."
+
+Then sharply:
+
+"He's not going to play with me, and so I precious soon mean to tell
+him.  He should marry me if I followed him all round the world for ever.
+There!"
+
+She emphasised her words with a stamp, and then, taking the old man by
+the shoulders, she pushed him back in his chair, and arranged his collar
+and tie--the one, a limp piece of linen; the other, something a little
+more limp and loose.
+
+"What's the matter, Dally?  What's wrong, my gel?"
+
+"After the way he has talked to me, and then to go off like that without
+a word!"
+
+"But you don't want him, Dally, and I don't want him."
+
+"Yes, I do; and I'll have him, too!" cried the girl, with savage
+vehemence.
+
+"Nay, nay.  He's an iddit."
+
+"Yes, I know that," cried Dally vindictively; "and a drunken idjut; but
+I don't care for that."
+
+"He was here to-night, staring in at the corner of the windy there."
+
+"What, Tom Candlish?" cried Dally excitedly.
+
+"Nay, nay; Joe Chegg."
+
+"Joe Chegg!" cried Dally, in a tone of disgust that would have cut the
+village Jack-of-all-trades to the heart.  "Who said anything about Joe
+Chegg?  I was talkin' about young squire."
+
+"Eh?  About young squire?  Well, Dally, well?  When's it to be?"
+
+"It's going to be soon, gran'fa, or I'll know the reason why; I'm not
+going to have him playing Miss Leo off against me."
+
+"Nay, that I wouldn't, Dally," cried the old man.
+
+"She's got to mind, or she may be ill again," cried the girl, with a
+vindictive look in her eyes.
+
+"Ill again!  Has she, Dally?  Nay, nay, nay, my gel; you mustn't talk
+like that."
+
+"Mustn't I, gran'fa? but I will," cried the girl.  "I'm not going to be
+played with, and if Tom Candlish wants to drink himself into a coffin--"
+
+"Eh?  What?--what?" cried Moredock, the last word making him prick up
+his ears.  "Nay, nay; don't you talk like that, my gel.  He's a young,
+strong man yet."
+
+"I say if Tom Candlish wants to drink himself into his coffin, he may.
+But he's got to make me Lady Candlish first."
+
+"Lady Candlish of the Hall, eh, Dally?  Lady Candlish of the Hall?  Ay,
+ay!  Let him make you Lady Candlish first, Dally."
+
+"Yes, and then he may drink himself into his coffin as soon as he
+likes."
+
+"And I'll bury him, eh, Dally?  In the old morslem, eh?  And doctor
+can--"
+
+He stopped short with a chuckle, and rubbed his hands.
+
+"Yes, the doctor can try and stop him from drinking, for I can't," said
+Dally acidly.  "It's of no use to talk to him."
+
+"And you wouldn't break your heart, Dally, if he was to die, would you?"
+said the old man, with a chuckle.
+
+"I should if he was to die now, gran'fa," said the girl; "but when he
+marries me he can do what he likes."
+
+"Ay, when he's married you, Dally, and you've got the Hall and all his
+money.  But, look here, Dally; I want doctor to come and see me and
+bring me some of his stuff.  You go up and tell him he must come--that I
+say he must come; I want him.  Tell him I say he is to come, and that he
+is to bring some o' that stuff he give me those nights.  You say o'
+those nights, and he'll know.  Rare stuff, Dally, as goes right down
+into your toes.  Rare stuff, as sets you up and makes you have a good
+nap sometimes."
+
+Dally looked at the sexton searchingly.
+
+"You're not looking well, gran'fa," she said.
+
+"Nay, I look well enough, but I do want the doctor a bit."
+
+"You see you're a very old man now."
+
+"Tchah! stuff!  Old?  I'm not an old man yet.  Lots o' go in me.  Man
+takes care of himself, and he ought to live to two hundred."
+
+"Two hundred, gran'fa!" cried the girl, looking at him wonderingly.
+
+"Ay.  Why not?  Look at the paytrarchs, seven and eight and nine
+hundred.  I don't mean to die yet, Dally," he chuckled; "and you'll have
+a long time to wait if you think you want the bit o' money I've saved
+up."
+
+"Where do you keep that stuff now, gran'fa?"
+
+"What stuff?" said the old man.
+
+"That stuff you used to keep in the blue bottle in the corner cupboard."
+
+"How did you know I kept stuff in that corner cupboard?"
+
+"Because I looked," said the girl pertly.  "Then I won't have you look
+in my cupboards.  I--"
+
+"Why not?" said Dally calmly.  "There, I know, gran'fa, most everything
+you've got.  Now, tell me, what have you done with that bottle that you
+used to use for your eyes?"
+
+"Poured it away, and put the bottle in the fire."
+
+"Oh, gran'fa!"
+
+"My eyes are right enough now, and I didn't want to go some night in the
+dark--candles cost money, Dally--and take the wrong stuff.  Doctor gives
+me some drops in a little bottle, and I shouldn't ha' liked to make a
+mistake."
+
+"And you've thrown it all away?" said the girl in a disappointed tone.
+
+"Ay, my gel.  It was poison, only to use outside, and you wouldn't ha'
+liked your poor old gran'fa to make a mistake?"
+
+"Gone!" said Dally, to herself.
+
+"Now, you go to doctor and say your gran'fa wants him.  Tell him I say
+it's all nonsense for him to be ill, and he must come."
+
+"Yes, gran'fa."
+
+"And you wait, Dally.  I arn't an old man yet, but I shall be sure to
+die some day, and then there'll be a bit o' money for you."
+
+"I don't want your money, gran'fa," she said sourly, as the old man
+grinned and rubbed his hands.
+
+"That's right.  Good gel.  Be independent," he said.  "Now go and tell
+doctor he must come."
+
+Dally did not stir, but stood gazing straight before her thoughtfully.
+
+"How much does it cost to go to London, gran'fa?" she said, at last, as
+the old man beat upon the arm of his chair to take her attention.
+
+"Heaps o' money--heaps o' money.  What do you want to know for?"
+
+"Because I'm going there."
+
+"Going?  What for?"
+
+"To find him and bring him back."
+
+"Whatcher talking about?  You go and fetch doctor."
+
+"About Tom Candlish.  I went to the Hall last night, and he was gone."
+
+"What, young squire?  Well, you mustn't go after him, gel."
+
+"Yes, I must," said Dally, with a lurid look in her dark eyes.  "I'm
+going after him to bring him back here, gran'fa.  But are you sure you
+threw that stuff away?"
+
+"Ay, I'm sure enough.  Now go and fetch doctor, I tell you; and ask him
+to give you some more of it if your eyes are bad.  Now go."
+
+Dally nodded shortly, neither displaying, nor being expected to display,
+any affection for her grandfather, as she left the cottage; when the old
+man relit his pipe and sat back thinking as he smoked.
+
+"What does she want with that stuff?" he said thoughtfully; "'tis
+poison, and she knowed where it was.  She wouldn't want to take none
+herself.  She wouldn't do that; and she wouldn't want to give none to
+Tom Candlish, because that wouldn't make him marry her.  I dessay she
+wants it--she wants it--to--"
+
+The old man's drowsy head had sunk back, his pipe-holding hand fell in
+his lap, and he slept heavily, to wake, after a few hours, cold and
+shivering, ready to creep to bed, murmuring against the doctor for not
+coming, and forgetting all about Dally and her desire to get that bottle
+which used to stand in the corner cupboard.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XVI.
+
+MOREDOCK'S MEDICINE.
+
+"It's like a shadow following me always," muttered North, "and it is
+hopeless for me to try longer.  I've fought and battled with it as
+bravely as a man could fight, and for what?  I have failed; there is
+nothing to keep me here.  Why should I stay?"
+
+"Yes," he repeated, "I have failed--failed in my daring attempt--failed
+in my love--and I want rest.  I can bear it no longer; what I want is
+rest.  Ah!"
+
+He drew a long breath and then sighed, and went straight to the window,
+drew aside the curtain, and for the first time for many days spent about
+half-an-hour at his toilet, to stand at last, weak and ghastly pale, but
+looking, otherwise, more like the frank, manly young doctor of the past.
+
+By this time his eyes had grown more accustomed to the light, and he
+went and stood gazing out of the window at the pleasant woodland
+landscape spread before him, thinking of his future, and ignorant of the
+fact that the sight was soothing to his troubled brain.
+
+It seemed to him that his shadow slept, and turning from the window,
+after a final look across the meadows, where now and again he could see
+the sun glancing from the stream in the direction of the Rectory, he
+walked, with a fair amount of steadiness, across the floor, just as the
+figure of a woman appeared in the lower meadow walking hurriedly and
+keeping close to the hedges and clumps of trees, which gave the place
+the aspect of a park.
+
+As North opened the door and made for the stairs he could see that the
+baize door at the foot, which cut off communication with the rest of the
+house, was ajar, and then it moved slightly and closed.
+
+"Watched," he said to himself; "poor old Milt!  I must not forget her."
+
+He went slowly down into the hall, and as he reached it the dining-room
+door, which was also ajar, closed softly, and North knit his brow and
+bit his lip as he turned his back to it and entered the study.
+
+He closed and locked the door after him; and, as he did so, the
+housekeeper's face appeared at the baize door, and Cousin Thompson's at
+that of the dining-room.
+
+Mrs Milt noticed the movement of the dining-room door, and stole softly
+back with a sigh, while, after waiting for a few minutes, with a
+peculiarly low cunning expression of countenance, Cousin Thompson took a
+little brass wedge from his pocket, and stuck it beneath the door, so as
+to hold it a few inches open, sufficiently to enable him to hear when
+the study was opened again, and then seated himself watchfully by the
+window, where he could command a good view of the principal gate.
+
+As soon as he was in the study, North looked sadly round at his books
+and tables, where everything was methodically arranged, and scrupulously
+neat and clean, the old housekeeper's hand being visible on every side.
+
+"Poor old woman!" muttered the doctor.  "As if she felt sure that I
+should not be ill long."
+
+He walked to the French window, which looked out upon the green lawn
+with its shrubbery surroundings, beyond which were the meadows and the
+purling stream.
+
+It was a scene of peace and beauty that should have been welcome to the
+most exacting, and it was not without its effect upon the doctor, who
+carefully closed and fastened the window before crossing to the door
+leading into his surgery, which he opened, and looked in to see that the
+outer door was closed.
+
+Returning to the study table, the baize communication swung to, and
+North sat down, quite calm and collected now, and began to write.
+
+He paused to think several times, but only to go on more earnestly, till
+he had done, when he read that which he had written, made a slight
+alteration or two, and then carefully folded and placed the papers in
+large envelopes, one of which he directed, "To my executors," and laid
+in a prominent place upon the table, where it could not fail to be seen;
+the other to his London medical friend.
+
+Apparently not satisfied, he took up the envelope, and placed it in
+another, after which he wrote upon a sheet of paper:
+
+"Mrs Milt.  Place this enclosure in my executors' hands yourself."
+
+Then directing the outer envelope to the housekeeper, he smiled with
+satisfaction, and had just laid it upon the table, duly fastened down,
+when a faint _chink_ made him turn his head in the direction of the
+surgery.
+
+North listened, and the faint sound of a bottle touching another was
+repeated.
+
+He rose and went softly to the door, which was not latched, opened it,
+and saw a hand dart down that was extended, as he stood face to face
+with Dally Watlock.
+
+In his surprise North did not speak, for he had been under the
+impression that he had fastened the door, and this gave the girl time to
+recover herself.
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir," she said, with a smile; "I only pushed
+that bottle back in its place.  It was nearly off the shelf."
+
+"What do you want?" said North sharply.
+
+"Gran'fa, please sir, said I was to come on and tell you he wanted you."
+
+"Tell him I can't come," said North shortly.  "Why did you come here,
+and not to the front?"
+
+"Oh, wasn't this right, sir?" said Dally apologetically.  "I am so
+sorry, sir.  But gran'fa said: `Go to Dr North's surgery,' and I came
+here.  Please, sir, he says you're to send him some of that same stuff
+you gave him before."
+
+North stood with his brows knit for a moment, and then went to a
+cupboard, took out a bottle of brandy, half full, and handed it to the
+girl.
+
+"Take that," he said, "and tell him to use it discreetly.  I cannot
+come."
+
+"Oh, thank you, sir.  Gran'fa 'll be so pleased, sir; and master 'll be
+so glad when I tell him you're so much better; and Miss Mary, too."
+
+North winced, and then frowned, as he passed the girl to open the outer
+door, and feign her to go.
+
+She smiled and curtsied as she passed out, the door being closed sharply
+behind her, and she heard a bolt shoot.
+
+"Yes," she muttered, with her countenance changing as she thrust the
+bottle carefully into her dress-pocket, with the result that there was
+another faint _chink_; "you may lock it now.  I don't care.  But wasn't
+it near?"
+
+She hesitated for a moment, as if about to go out by the front, but
+Cousin Thompson was not puzzled by seeing her pass, for she returned by
+the way she came, down the kitchen garden to the meadows, and through
+them and down by the river till she reached the nearest point to the
+Rectory garden, through which she passed, after stopping to pick a
+handful of parsley to carry into the house.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XVII.
+
+BESIEGED.
+
+Dally had not reached the Rectory, and Horace North had not sat long
+thinking over the girl's words in a way which puzzled him, as it brought
+a curious feeling of rest and satisfaction to his brain, before a
+carriage came sharply along the King's Hampton road, and passed
+Moredock's cottage and Mrs Berens' pretty villa-like home.  North was
+seated, with his head resting upon his hand, thinking.
+
+Miss Mary would be so pleased, the girl had said--pleased that he was
+better.
+
+It seemed strange to him, but the words set him picturing Mary Salis in
+the old days at the Rectory; then her accident, and how he had tended
+her.  Then he thought of the sweet, pale, patient face, as she passed
+through that long time of bodily suffering, to be followed by the
+lasting period of what must have been terrible mental anguish as she
+found herself to be a hopeless, helpless invalid--changed, as it were by
+one sad blow, from a young and active girl to a dependent cripple.
+
+"Poor, gentle, patient Mary!" he said softly; and then, like a flash,
+his mind turned to the sister--her sick couch, her delirious declaration
+of her love, and his weak, blind folly in not grasping the fact that the
+tenderness she lavished upon him was meant for another.
+
+"No, you can't.  Master's better, and he's engaged, and can't see
+patients."
+
+North started up on his seat, rigid, and with a wild look in his eyes,
+as he heard these loudly uttered words, and then sprang to the door.
+
+"Now, my dear Mrs Milt," said a soft, unctuous voice, which he knew
+only too well, "pray do not be excited.  How can you speak like that?"
+
+"I speak what I think and feel, sir," retorted the old lady sharply.
+"What do these people want with master?"
+
+"To ask him to go and attend upon a patient who is in a dying state.
+There: pray come away.  Really, Mrs Milt, you must not interfere like
+this."
+
+"I tell you, sir, master don't want to see patients, and he can't come
+out; so you must send them away."
+
+"Really, Mrs Milt," said Cousin Thompson, "this is insufferable.  My
+good woman, you forget yourself."
+
+Every word reached North as he stood close to the door and realised that
+there was one woman ready to fight in his defence.
+
+North stood there, with his hands clenched and his brow rugged, glaring
+angrily, for he well knew what this meant.  The voices were heard
+retiring, and the sound of the dining-room door closing, and muffling
+them suddenly, told him as plainly as if he had seen that the
+housekeeper had followed Cousin Thompson into that room, where an angry
+altercation seemed to be in progress.
+
+"Hah!" ejaculated the miserable man; "canting and unscrupulous to the
+end.  He is keeping her in parley while his people do their work."
+
+He laughed bitterly, for at that moment the door was tried softly, and
+then there was a gentle tapping on the panel.
+
+"May my money prove a curse to him, and the whole place constantly
+remind him of his treachery," he muttered, as the soft tapping was
+repeated, and a low voice, which he did not recognise, said:
+
+"Dr North--Dr North!  Can I speak to you a minute?"
+
+He made no answer, but drew back to the table.
+
+"Will they dare to break in?" he said to himself, as his face wore a
+look of bitter scorn and contempt.
+
+Just then Mrs Milt's voice could be heard raised loudly in protest; but
+it was in vain.  Cousin Thompson, under the pretext of holding a parley,
+had entrapped her in the dining-room, and then interposed his person
+whenever she attempted to leave by door or window.
+
+The tapping at the door ceased, and there was a sound of whispering;
+whilst a minute after a stoutly-built, rather hard-faced man, with a
+determined look, suddenly appeared at the French window looking on the
+garden, and tried the handle.
+
+It was fast on the inside.
+
+He passed on and went round to the surgery door, which he tried, too;
+but North had fastened this when he let Dally out, and the man came
+back, looked in and tapped gently on the pane to take North's attention.
+Then seeing that he did not stir from where he stood at the table, the
+man smiled and beckoned to him.
+
+This he repeated again and again, but North did not stir.  Then his lips
+moved, and he involuntarily repeated Hamlet's words:
+
+"I am but mad north-north-west.  When the wind is southerly, I know a
+hawk from a hernshaw."
+
+The man nodded and smiled again, and passed away.
+
+There was another low murmuring outside the door, and a fresh tapping,
+as a persuasive voice said:
+
+"Dr North, will you be kind enough to open the door, and come into the
+dining-room?  Mrs Milt, the housekeeper, would like to speak to you."
+
+"What a child--what a weak lunatic they must think me!" muttered North;
+but he did not move, and, as he fully expected, the last speaker, as he
+supposed, went round to the window and tapped softly.
+
+The fresh comer might have been twin brother of the first, so similar
+was his expression, so exactly a repetition were his acts.
+
+They were of as much avail, and he returned to the hall, when a few
+words were exchanged in a low tone of voice, followed by a sharp tapping
+at the dining-room door.
+
+This was opened, and Mrs Milt's voice rose loudly:
+
+"Stop me if you dare, any of you! and I'll have the law of you."
+
+This was followed by a sharp, rustling noise, and the dull thud made by
+the banging of the baize door.
+
+Then there was the sound of the gravel as some one walked over it
+hurriedly, and the clicking of the swing-gate before it caught.
+
+"Give the word, sir, and it's done," said a deep voice.
+
+"Quick, then!" said Cousin Thompson sharply.  "Quick, before that cursed
+woman returns with help."
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XVIII.
+
+ONE WAY OF ESCAPE.
+
+North drew a deep breath as one of the men stationed himself at the
+study window and looked in.
+
+He strode towards him, and the man smiled and beckoned to him to come
+out; but the smile became a scowl as the cord was seized and the blind
+drawn down.
+
+Just then the door cracked as some one pressed it hard, and then a
+whispering penetrated to where North stood looking round before crossing
+to the surgery, entering, and locking himself in.
+
+His first act was to go to the window, where he expected to find that
+there was another sentry; but window and outer door faced in another
+direction, and were shut off from the part of the garden where the man
+stood by a dense patch of ancient shrubbery and a tall yew hedge.
+
+North felt perfectly calm now, but his soul was full of a terrible
+despair.
+
+He told himself that for him hope was dead; that in dealing with the
+occult secrets of Nature he had nearly mastered that which he wished to
+discover, but had failed, and must pay the penalty; while in the future
+some more fortunate student would profit by that which he had done; and,
+avoiding the pitfall into which he had fallen, take another turning and
+triumph.
+
+To this end in the hours of his misery--when it had seemed to him that
+the strange essence which pervaded him slept--he had committed to paper
+the whole history of his experiments, from the first start to the time
+when he had awakened to the fact that he could no longer arrest the
+decomposition of the important organs, or do more than make a kind of
+mummy of his subject; but the essence or spirit was, as it were, taken
+captive, and at the same time held him in thrall.
+
+This, to the most extreme point, he had carefully written out, showing,
+in addition, the time when he felt that he must have gone wrong, as that
+where a different course must be pursued by the daring scientist who
+would venture so much in the great cause.
+
+For he wrote clearly and impressively: failure meant such a fate as his,
+the constant presence of the spirit of the person who had died, and with
+it the being compelled to suffer for every wild act or speech this
+essence would do or make.  He told how helpless he was, how he had
+striven to bring scientific knowledge to bear, fought with his position
+as a man should who was in the full possession of his faculties, but
+that he could do no more.
+
+Success meant a crown of triumphant honour; failure, a kind of sane
+madness, whose only end could be death--a death he was compelled to seek
+to save himself at once--to save himself from being treated as a maniac,
+and then to spend a few weeks or months of torture which he knew he
+could not bear.
+
+In his last paragraphs he pointed out his position.  He was believed to
+be mad, and to clear himself he would have to explain his experiment and
+his abnormal position, which he owned that no one would or could be
+expected to believe, save such a _savant_ as the one he addressed--a man
+who had made the brain his study, and who could feel for the sufferings
+of the writer.
+
+This letter was enclosed in the packet addressed to his executors for
+delivery to Mr Delton, and lay in the study, waiting till those
+executors should receive the last commands.
+
+All was at an end now, and with a feeling of calmness approaching to
+content, Horace North looked round his surgery with its many familiar
+objects; and without the slightest feeling of dread took down a small
+medicine glass from the set standing all ready upon a shelf, and then
+lifted a large bottle from one particular spot at the end where it
+always stood, veiling a little recess wherein were a couple of smaller
+bottles, carefully labelled and marked as to their degree of strength.
+
+"Is it cowardly?" he said quietly.  "Is it a sin?  Surely not, when I
+know my position, and--yes, that is my fate."
+
+For at that moment there was a sharp crack: the door had yielded, and he
+knew that his cousin's emissaries--the people from some private asylum--
+had forced their way into the study, and their next step would be to
+make their way to where he was.
+
+He could have opened the door, and fled by way of the meadows; but
+where?  To whom?  Perhaps at the moment when he made his first appeal
+for help, the living shadow that he had, as it were, taken to him, would
+utter some wild cry or absurd jest, and people would believe his
+pursuers in spite of all that he could declare.
+
+No, it was not cowardice, this hastening of his end; and, withdrawing
+the stopper, he began pouring out the liquid contents of the little
+bottle, as the handle of the surgery door was turned, and the panel gave
+an ominous crack.
+
+"You shall let me pass away in peace," he said quietly, as he drew away
+a chair which propped back an inner door of baize, let it swing to, and
+thrust in both its bolts.
+
+"Cousin Thompson," he said bitterly, "you were always a miserable
+wretch, but I withdraw my curse.  Take all, and enjoy your wretched life
+as well as such a reptile can."
+
+He paused for a few moments, with his lips moving slowly, and a calm
+look of resignation softening the harsh austerities of his face.
+
+"To forgiveness!" he said softly.  "To oblivion!" and he raised the
+glass to his lips.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XIX.
+
+VISION OR REAL.
+
+The shivering of glass as the fragments of a pane fell tinkling upon the
+carpet.
+
+The shivering of glass as the little crystal fell from Horace North's
+hand, and a pungent odour filled the room.
+
+"Mary Salis! or am I mad indeed?" ejaculated the wretched man.
+
+He stood motionless, staring at the window as a white arm was forced
+through the broken glass, and the catch thrust back, but not so quickly
+but that a deep red stain had time to show; for the jagged glass made an
+ugly gash above the white wrist, though it was unheeded, and the
+casement was flung open.
+
+"The door--open that door!"  North did not stir, but stood gazing wildly
+at the pallid face before him, and then he passed his hands across his
+eyes and tottered to the window, as if drawn there by the eyes which
+gazed into his.
+
+"Quick! the door--open this door!" was panted forth.
+
+He obeyed mechanically without taking his eyes from the window, feeling
+his way to the door, and slowly opening it, to stand gazing at Mary
+Salis, as she caught his hands in hers.
+
+"What were you going to do?" she cried piteously.  "You, too, of all
+men!  You must be mad--you must be mad!"
+
+"Yes," he said vacantly; "they say so.  I must be mad, or is--is it
+past--a dream?  Mary Salis--you!"
+
+"What's that?" cried Mary excitedly, as the sound of the breaking door
+was heard.  North uttered a sigh.
+
+"They are coming," he cried, "and I shall be too late.  Loose my arm--
+loose my arm!"
+
+"No, no, no!" panted Mary, as she flung herself upon his breast.  "It is
+what I feared; I believed it, and I came.  Oh, for pity's sake, don't do
+that!"
+
+"Yes: I must.  You do not know," he whispered hoarsely, as he tried to
+unlace her arms from about him.
+
+"Yes, I know that you were about to commit self-murder, and you shall
+not do this thing," cried Mary wildly.
+
+"Would you see me dragged away to a living death?" he said.  "Listen--do
+you not hear?  Loose me, I say!"
+
+He spoke almost savagely now, as he struggled to get the enlacing hands
+away; but, as he tore at them, Mary clung the closer, drawing herself
+more tightly to his breast as her face approached his, and her lips
+parted, her eyes dilated, and she cried as wildly:
+
+"Then kill me too!"  He ceased struggling to look at the flushed,
+love-illumined face that approached his, unable to grasp the whole
+meaning of what was said, mentally incapable of interpreting the words
+and looks, the whole scene being like the phantasm of some delirious
+fit.
+
+A louder crack of the baize door aroused him, and he started away.
+
+"Don't you hear?" he whispered.  "Don't you hear?"
+
+"Yes," cried Mary, still clinging to him; "I hear, and it is help."
+
+"No, no!" he whispered; "it is those men.  Ah, I am too late!"
+
+For at that moment there was a sharp rustling of the bushes, and a man
+ran up over the lawn, to pause bewildered at the scene before him.
+
+"You, miss--here?" he panted breathlessly.  "Old Missus Milt said as the
+maddus folk was taking the doctor away."
+
+"What?" cried Mary; and a mist floated before her eyes.
+
+"The maddus folk, miss; and they've got a carriage round the front."
+
+With a strength that was almost superhuman, Mary recovered herself, and
+grasping the situation, she whispered to North:
+
+"Is this true?"
+
+"Listen," he said.
+
+Mary clung to him tightly as the sounds of the doors being forced bore
+unanswerable witness to the words; and then, as if to shield him from
+the threatened danger, she thrust him from her and followed across the
+surgery.
+
+"No, no!" she panted.  "Quick, before it is too late."
+
+"Go?" he said, in answer to her frenzied appeal.
+
+"Yes, yes; quick--quick!  The garden--the meadows."
+
+North seemed dazed, but Joe Chegg, who had run excitedly to the Manor
+after meeting the old housekeeper, more with the idea of seeing what was
+going on than affording help, now caught North's arm and hurried him out
+of the surgery and down the nearest path, then in and out among the
+dense shrubs, so that they were well out of sight before the door
+yielded, and Cousin Thompson's emissaries found their prey had gone.
+
+North made no opposition to the efforts of those who held him on either
+side; but, weak with long fasting, and now utterly dazed, he staggered
+from time to time, and would have fallen but for the sustaining arms.
+
+"Rect'ry, miss?  All right," said Joe Chegg.  "Hold up, sir, or you'll
+be down."
+
+For North had made a lurch, and clung wildly to the sturdy young fellow.
+
+"Oh, try--pray try!" moaned Mary, as she gazed back.  "Now; I'll help
+all I can."
+
+"I'll manage him," said Joe, who took the appeal to himself.  "You let
+him lean on me.  Why, I thought, miss, as how you couldn't walk."
+
+"Hush! don't speak.  They may hear us," whispered Mary, gazing fearfully
+back as they pressed on through the meadows with the bottom of the
+Rectory garden still a couple of hundred yards away, when, as Mary
+glanced sidewise at North, she saw his eyes close, and at the same
+moment his legs gave way, and he sank towards the grass.
+
+Mary uttered a piteous groan and gazed at Chegg, who had loosened his
+hold on North's arm, and now stood with hat raised, scratching his head.
+
+"Now, if some one else was here," he muttered; and then, in answer to an
+unspoken question, he cried aloud: "Well, I d'know, miss; but, anyhow,
+I'll try."
+
+A life of toil had made the young fellow's muscles pretty tough, or else
+he could not have risen so sturdily after kneeling down, and, contriving
+to get North upon his shoulder, to start off once more, with Mary urging
+him to use every exertion, for a shout from behind had thrilled her, and
+on looking back it was to see two men coming along the meadow at a quick
+trot, while a third was walking swiftly behind.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XX.
+
+A RACE FOR LIBERTY.
+
+It was a close race, and Mary Salis felt that, ere many minutes had
+passed, the strange force which had nerved her so that she had traversed
+the distance between the two houses, and then enabled her to go through
+the scene which followed, would fail; but still she struggled on, with
+their pursuers gaining so rapidly that the gate which gave upon the
+meadows had hardly been passed and dashed to, and the feeling that at
+last they were in comparative safety, given her fresh strength, when the
+two keepers came up, and without hesitation threw open the gate, and
+followed into the Rectory orchard.
+
+Joe Chegg had lowered his burden on to the ground as the men reached the
+gate.
+
+"What'll I do, miss?"
+
+"Stand by me," panted Mary, stooping to catch Horace's hand in hers; and
+then, sinking on one knee, she held to it tightly with both her own.
+
+"Stand by you, miss?" cried Joe.  "Yes; I'll do that; but you run and
+call for help."
+
+"No, no," cried Mary; "I will not go."
+
+"Now, then," cried Joe, "what is it?  You know you're a-trespassing
+here?"
+
+"You get out," growled one of the men; and he thrust the sturdy young
+fellow roughly aside.
+
+It was a mistake on the keeper's part, for Joe Chegg's father was a
+Bilston man, notorious in his time for the pugnacity of his life.
+
+His mantle, or rather his disposition to take off his coat, had fallen
+upon his son, and the result of the rude thrust was that Joe Chegg
+rebounded so violently that the keeper went staggering back, and by the
+time he recovered, and his companion was about to join in the attack,
+Joe had proved himself to be the son of his father, for his coat was
+lying on the ground.
+
+This was awkward.  The keepers were accustomed to tussles with insane
+patients, and they were ready for a fight with Horace North, and to do
+anything to force him into the carriage waiting at the Manor House.  But
+Joe Chegg was sane, sturdy, and had begun to square.
+
+A fight with the stout young Warwick man was not in their instructions,
+and they called a parley.
+
+"Look here, miss," said the one who had been struck surlily; "just call
+your bulldog off.  We don't want no trouble, and you're doing a very
+foolish thing; so let us do our dooty and go."
+
+As he spoke he advanced, but a feint from Joe made him flinch, though he
+gave the young fellow a very ugly look.
+
+"This is an outrage," cried Mary, rising and speaking now firmly.  "What
+does it mean?"
+
+"It means, madam," said a voice, as the tall, dark medical man who had
+visited twice at the Manor now came upon the scene, after a very hurried
+walk through the meadows--"it means, madam," he repeated, for he was
+breathless, "that Dr North is not in a fit condition to be at large."
+
+"It is not true!" cried Mary indignantly; though the recollection of
+what she had witnessed made her quail.
+
+"It is quite true, madam; and his nearest friends have taken steps to
+have him placed under proper treatment, where he can be restored to
+health."
+
+"Where what little reason left to him will be wrecked," something seemed
+to say within Mary; and she held on more tightly to North's hand.
+
+"There, madam," said the doctor; "I have explained this to you, but I
+will also add, so that there may be no further unpleasantry, that all
+these steps have been taken after proper advice, and in strict legal
+manner.  Now, be kind enough to let my men assist the patient to rise,
+and let us get this sad matter settled as quickly as we can."
+
+Mary wavered, and the doctor saw it.
+
+"Jones," he said, "you go and get the carriage round here.  It will be
+much the shortest way."
+
+"Dr North is a very old and dear friend of ours," said Mary, recovering
+herself, and speaking with dignity; "and I cannot stand by, in my
+brother's absence, and see what seems to me to be an outrage committed."
+
+"Ah, your brother is away," said the doctor.  "It is a pity, for
+gentlemen are better to deal with than ladies in a case like this.
+There, my dear madam, pray accept my assurances that everything is
+right, and that Dr North will be taken the greatest care of, and
+restored to you soon perfectly sane and well.  Pray be good enough to
+stand aside."
+
+"No," cried Mary firmly; "he shall not go."
+
+"Just say the word, miss," whispered Joe Chegg.
+
+"Jones!" shouted the doctor; "come back!"
+
+The second keeper, who was nearly through the orchard, came back, and it
+was a case of three to one; but Joe Chegg was not intimidated.
+
+"Look here," he said.  "Miss Salis says he isn't to go, and you're
+trespassing here.  Hi! you Dally Watlock!" he shouted, as he caught
+sight of the little maid coming down the orchard; "you let loose that
+there dog."
+
+Dally hesitated while, in response to a word from the doctor, the
+keepers advanced; and they would have succeeded in their task--Joe
+Chegg's brave efforts being doomed to failure by the baffling movements
+of the well-dressed doctor, whom he hesitated to strike--but succour
+arrived in the person of Salis, who came running down the orchard,
+red-faced and excited.
+
+The odds were so reduced that a fresh parley ensued, the doctor giving
+his explanations now once more in answer to the indignant questions of
+Salis:
+
+"How dare you insult my sister?" followed by another, "How dare you
+insult my friend?"
+
+"Law or no law, sir," cried Salis, at last, "Dr North is on my
+premises, where, so to speak, he has taken sanctuary.  You are acting at
+the wish of Mr Thompson?"
+
+The doctor bowed.
+
+"Then fetch Mr Thompson here."
+
+"Really, sir--" began the doctor.
+
+"That will do, sir," cried Salis.  "You have heard my decision.  If the
+law forces me to give up my friend, I may be compelled; but I will not
+give him up to you and these men now.  Chegg, see these persons off the
+Rectory grounds."
+
+There was no help for it.  A struggle would have resulted in the raising
+of the village, and, shrugging his shoulders, the doctor beat an
+ignominious retreat with his men.
+
+"Mary!" exclaimed Salis, now for the first time realising the miracle
+that seemed to have occurred; "is this you?"
+
+The poor girl did not speak, but stood gazing at him with her eyes
+growing dim, while before he could catch her she sank, first upon her
+knees, and then forward with her head upon North's breast, while her
+soft, fair hair escaped from the bands which held it, and fell loosely
+about her marble face.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XXI.
+
+CLEANING A ROOM.
+
+Earlier on that day Dally sat in her bedroom watching from the window,
+as she had often watched before when it was night.
+
+Her little, rosy face was a study, and her dark eyes glistened like
+those of an eager rat.
+
+She had well calculated her time, and before long saw Leo come out, book
+in hand, for her customary walk up and down the garden.
+
+Dally wasted no time, but hurried to Mary's room to listen for a few
+moments, and then steal into Leo's, where she peered in for a moment,
+and then hurried out to return with a dustpan and brush and a duster.
+These she placed upon chair and floor to cover her appearance should Leo
+return; while, after a rummage in her pocket, she brought out a little
+key.
+
+Before using this she darted to the window, and waited till she could
+see Leo going from the house, when, with rat-like action, she made for a
+chest of drawers, upon which stood a desk, opened it with the speed of
+one accustomed to the task, and lifting one side, thrust in her hand, to
+draw out a packet of letters tied with a ribbon.
+
+The top one bore a postmark only two days old, and this the girl drew
+out, skimmed over as rapidly as her illiterate brain would allow, and as
+she read her countenance changed again and again.
+
+"Ah!" she ejaculated, at last.  "You would, would you?" and taking up a
+pencil from the tray, and a new envelope, she laboriously copied out
+what seemed to be an address.
+
+Then, with a smile of triumph, she hurriedly refolded the letter and
+replaced it in the packet, thrust the newly addressed envelope in her
+bosom, re-locked the desk, and had hardly destroyed all signs of her
+action, when she heard a slight cough.
+
+Dally ran more rat-like than ever to the place where the dustpan and
+brush lay, plumped down on her knees, and began to work with her back to
+the door, humming away in a low tone as busily as could be amongst the
+dust she raised.
+
+"Dally!" cried Leo, opening the door.
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"Oh, what a dreadful dust!  You know I don't like this unnecessary
+sweeping going on."
+
+"But it wanted doing so badly, miss, and you were gone out in the
+garden."
+
+"Yes, yes; but leave off, that's a good girl, now.  I want to sit down
+and read."
+
+"Yes, miss," said Dally, hurriedly using the duster.
+
+"Do you know where my brother has gone?"
+
+"No, miss; don't you?"
+
+"No," said Leo wearily.
+
+"Oh, yes, I do, miss; he went to the Manor House, and then he come back
+to Miss Mary, and I think now he's gone to King's Hampton."
+
+"Oh," said Leo wearily.  "That will do; and don't come to tidy up my
+room again without asking leave."
+
+"No, miss," said Dally, retreating and going back to her own room, where
+she threw her housemaid's utensils on the bed, and took out and read the
+address on the envelope, "Telacot's Hotel, Craven Street, Strand."
+
+"Don't you be afraid, miss," she muttered, "I won't tidy up your room
+again.  Oh, what treachery there is in this world!  But wait, my dear,
+and you shall see!"
+
+She replaced the envelope, and stood thinking for a few moments before
+coming to a decision, and then--
+
+"I haven't been there dozens of time for gran'fa for nothing," she said,
+half aloud.  "I know, and I will.
+
+"But suppose--
+
+"He wouldn't," she said, after a pause.  "They say he never comes out of
+his room except at night--I will."
+
+Five minutes after she was going down the garden ostensibly to pick that
+bunch of parsley, and to obtain it she went to the very bottom of the
+kitchen garden, and thence into the meadows, through which she almost
+ran till she reached the bottom of the Manor House grounds, and then,
+knowing the place as she had from childhood, she easily made her way,
+unseen, to the surgery, to be found by North.
+
+Dally returned triumphantly, but she did not take the brandy to her
+grandfather, but deposited it in her box in the bedroom before going
+about her work as calmly as if she had nothing more important in her
+mind than dusters and brooms, and the keeping tidy of the portions of
+the Rectory within her province.
+
+But nothing missed her piercing little eyes, which seemed to glitter as
+the various matters occurred, and in the intervals she packed a few
+necessaries in a large reticule bag, which she hung over the iron knob
+of her bedstead in company with her jacket and hat.
+
+No servant could have been more attentive, or apparently
+innocent-looking as she stared at Joe Chegg, who, after helping Salis to
+bear North into the drawing-room, was relegated to the kitchen to be
+refreshed.
+
+Joe stared hard at her with an indignant frown, as he slowly ground up
+masses of bread and cheese, and washed them down with copious draughts
+of ale.
+
+But Joe's frowns had no effect upon Dally, and her aspect was simplicity
+itself, as, after a time, he took to shaking his head at her solemnly,
+following up each shake of the head with a sigh, and then apparently
+easing his sufferings by an angry bite at the bread.
+
+Each time Joe looked and frowned, Dally replied with a simple, innocent
+maiden's round-eyed, wondering gaze, which seemed to ask why he did not
+speak and say what he had to say.
+
+But Joe Chegg said nothing, only ate, and frowned, and shook his head
+till he had done; and after a time Dally, having nothing else to do,
+thrust a little plump hand right down a black stocking till her knuckles
+represented the heel which had been peering through a large hole, and
+then and there she began to make worsted trellis-work which looked to
+Joe Chegg very similar to what he had often done in wood.
+
+The drawing-room bell rang, but before Dally could answer it, Salis
+appeared at the door.
+
+"Don't go away, Chegg, my lad," he said.  "I don't know what visitors
+may come, and I should like you to hang about the place and watch."
+
+"Well, you see, sir," said Joe sturdily, "there's a man's time."
+
+"Oh, yes," said Salis, smiling; "you shall be paid double time."
+
+"For how long, sir?"
+
+"Wait and see; and keep a good lookout about the premises."
+
+He said these words as he was leaving the kitchen door, and met Leo in
+the hall, directly after, with her handsome eyes looking at him
+inquiringly.
+
+It was observable, too, in the kitchen that Dally's countenance looked a
+little more intent and she bent a little more over her stocking, and
+began to hum as she darned, while Joe Chegg took up the ale mug, and,
+after looking into it meditatively, began to work the table-spoonful
+left at the bottom round and round as if he were preparing an experiment
+whose aim was to keep one little blot of froth right in the centre like
+a tiny island of foam in a small sea of beer.
+
+"Yes; I'll watch," he said to the mug; "and it won't be the first time.
+It arn't much goes on as I don't see."
+
+Dally hummed and ceased to look catlike in her quiescence, for her
+aspect was kittenish now, and her hum deepened every now and then into a
+purr.
+
+"Strange things goes on in this here village," continued Joe, gazing
+into the mug; "and I sees a deal of what young ladies and persons does."
+
+Daily's purr would now have done credit to a Persian puss: it was so
+soft and pleasant and round.
+
+"But of all the things as ever I've see o' young ladies, I never see
+aught as ekalled the way as Miss Mary's got strong and well."
+
+Dally hummed now, and her tones were those of a musical bee, while the
+trellis-work in the stocking grew and grew.
+
+"Well," said Joe, after getting the drop of froth to stand very high out
+of its beery-whirlpool, "I'm a-goin' to play policeman now."
+
+He tossed the remainder of the beer into his throat, and set down the
+mug.
+
+"There arn't many jobs as comes amiss to me."
+
+He rose and walked out of the kitchen, and as Dally saw him from the
+window on his way round to the front, she gave her stocking-covered fist
+a dab down on the table and uttered an angry "_Ugh_!"
+
+Joe Chegg was not playing policeman long before he ran to the front door
+and knocked.
+
+"Mist--Salis, sir!  Mist--Salis.  Here's one on 'em."
+
+Salis was with North, and did not hear, so that when a keen old
+gentleman with white hair alighted from a fly, it was to find the door
+barred by the sturdy young workman.
+
+"Is Dr North here?"
+
+"What do you want with Dr North?" cried Joe surlily.
+
+"I am a medical man, my lad," said the old gentleman, smiling.  "I have
+come down from London to see him."
+
+"Yes, I thought you had," said Joe; "and you can't see him, so you may
+just go back, as the t'others have done before.  Eh?  Oh, I beg pardon,
+sir.  I thought it was the wrong sort."
+
+For Salis, hearing the altercation, had hurried out, and a brief
+explanation had set all straight.
+
+"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" said the doctor, after following Salis into
+his room and hearing an explanation of the case.  "Overwrought, I
+suppose.  Well, let's see him."
+
+They went to the darkened drawing-room to pause at the door, the doctor
+making a sign to Salis to stay while he watched the patient, who was
+ignorant of his presence.
+
+North was lying back on the sofa with his eyes nearly closed, and Mary
+seated near, holding his hand, and bent towards him as if listening to
+his breathing.
+
+Suddenly he started--crying out wildly as his eyes opened with a dilated
+stare; but as he tried to rise, Mary's soft white hand was laid upon his
+forehead, and he sank back with a sigh of restfulness; his eyes closed
+again, and he lay breathing calmly.
+
+Salis looked at Mr Delton, but the old man did not stir.  Here was the
+case developing itself before him, and he could not study it better than
+unobserved.
+
+Salis was about to re-enter the room, when Dally came and summoned him
+by pulling his sleeve.
+
+"What is it?" he said sharply, as he turned.
+
+"Mrs Milt, to see you, sir."
+
+Salis hesitated.
+
+"I will wait till you return," whispered the old doctor.  "I am well
+employed."
+
+Salis hurried to where the old housekeeper was waiting.
+
+"I've just heard that master is here, sir," cried the old woman
+excitedly.  "Oh, I am thankful!  I found these papers in the study, sir;
+they were in an envelope directed to me, sir, and this one for the
+doctor master knows in London."
+
+Salis uttered a cry of joy.
+
+"Mr Delton is with your master," he said.
+
+Mrs Milt sighed.
+
+"Let me go to him, sir, please."
+
+Salis signed to her to follow, and led the way to where North lay now as
+if asleep, with Mary's hand held to his brow.
+
+The old housekeeper stood for a few moments watching, and then drew
+back.
+
+"No, sir," she said; "I won't disturb him.  I haven't seen him look like
+that for weeks."
+
+"And I will not disturb him," said the old doctor.  "Rest like that must
+be good."
+
+He followed Salis into the dining-room, where he sat down to read the
+communication North had written, and after studying it carefully for
+some time, he looked up to find the curate's eyes fixed upon him
+intently.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, Mr Salis, I think I can say a comforting word or two.  By the
+way, I thought I would come on straight to you instead of calling first
+at the Manor House, and it is as well I did."
+
+"But the letter, sir--the letter from my poor friend?"
+
+"Ah, yes, the letter," said the old doctor dreamily.  "I have read and
+studied it well."
+
+"And you think?"
+
+"A great deal, my dear sir--a great deal; but I have not finished yet.
+A clear case of overtaxed brain.  I should say that he had worked
+himself into a state of exhaustion, and then some shock must have
+occurred to destroy the tottering balance.  Not a money trouble, for I
+think Mr North is well off.  Not a love trouble, for judging from what
+I saw--"
+
+"You are mistaken in that, sir," said Salis.  "My poor friend suffered a
+grievous shock a short time since."
+
+"Ah! just as I expected.  That is quite sufficient to account for it
+all."
+
+"But the future, sir?  For goodness' sake, speak!  Your reticence
+tortures me."
+
+"I beg your pardon.  I am thoughtful and slow, Mr Salis.  Let me try
+and set you at rest.  As far as I can judge without further study of the
+case, I should say that you need be under very little uneasiness."
+
+"You do not consider his case necessitates his being placed in a private
+asylum?"
+
+"I should say the people who placed him in one deserved to be hanged.
+Well, no," he added, smiling; "not so bad as that, but to be placed in a
+private asylum themselves."
+
+"Thank God!" said Salis fervently, and the tears stood in his eyes as he
+grasped the old doctor's hands.
+
+The evening was growing old as Mr Delton sat facing Salis in his study,
+nursing his knee, and calmly watching the curate smoking his one per
+diem cigar.
+
+"No," said the old man, smiling; "I rarely smoke now; but North was
+right; it is good for you.  I don't mind a bit.  Pray go on."
+
+So Salis smoked and sat talking with the tea-things on the table.
+
+Leo had begged to be excused.  The excitement had upset her, she said,
+and she was in her room, where Dally had taken her up some tea, and
+paused for some moments on the landing, in the dark, to set the saucer
+down upon the large window sill, and as she bent over the tray a faint
+gurgling sound was heard, and click as of glass against glass.
+
+The doctor had been in twice to see North, who was sleeping heavily,
+with Mary and the old housekeeper seated by him, the lamp being shaded
+and placed where the light could not trouble the patient; and, after a
+stormy day, all seemed to have settled down to calm repose.
+
+"My dear sir," said the doctor, "it is not the first time that Nature
+has performed a miracle of this kind.  Your sister's nervous excitement
+did what we doctors were unable to perform--triumphed over the inert
+muscles.  They obeyed; the latent force was set in action, and she rose
+from her couch to go to her poor friend's help--in time to save him from
+a very terrible fate, whether that fate was the private asylum, or that
+which he had evidently in mind.  Poor fellow!  I wish I had seen him
+sooner.  No; it is better as it is, and he will say so when we have him
+once more himself."
+
+"Then you really do feel hopeful?"
+
+"My dear Mr Salis," said the old man, "if I am not wrong in my ideas,
+that sweet-faced lady in the next room will slowly and patiently repay
+our poor friend for unknowingly restoring her to a life of activity.
+She will bring him back to calm reason."
+
+"You think this?" said Salis hoarsely.
+
+"Indeed I do.  His long and lucid statement to me shows that in every
+point but one he was as sane as you or I.  He had one little crotchet,
+due to the overstrain, and that will, I feel sure, with a little help,
+soon disappear.  Mr Salis, take my word for it, you may be perfectly at
+rest."
+
+"Good heavens!" cried Salis, springing to his feet, for at that moment a
+wild shriek resounded through the house, followed by a heavy fall in the
+room above.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XXII.
+
+MISSING THE MAIL TRAIN.
+
+Ten o'clock had just struck, and the old tower was still vibrating, when
+Dally Watlock's bedroom door was softly opened, and the little lady,
+clad in her tightly-fitting jacket and natty hat, came softly out, to
+stand upon the landing listening.
+
+The lamp was burning on the hall table, and it sent up a faint yellow
+glow which shone strangely upon the girl's face, as she stood listening
+to the murmur of voices proceeding from the curate's study, and she
+could just make out a faint line of light coming from beneath the
+drawing-room door.
+
+Dally went slowly and softly across the landing till she reached Leo's
+door, where she paused to listen; but all was perfectly still, and
+stealing one gloved hand to the latch, she tried the door cautiously,
+but it did not yield, and though she tapped twice there was no response.
+
+Dally drew her breath softly between her teeth, and uttered a low,
+vicious little laugh.
+
+"Good night, dear," she said softly; "it'll be ten o'clock to-morrow
+when you wake, and then--we shall see!"
+
+One of the stairs gave a loud warning creak as she stopped, bag in hand,
+holding on by the balustrade, and ready, rat-like, to dart back to her
+room should any one open the study door.
+
+But the murmur of voices still went on, and Dally stole down the rest of
+the way to reach the hall, creep softly to a swing-door, and pass
+through into the neatly-kept kitchen, where a fire still glowed and a
+kettle sang its own particular song.
+
+Dally closed the kitchen door after her, darted across the broad patch
+of warm light cast by the fire into the darkness of a scullery beyond,
+and closed a door after her to stand thinking.
+
+"Craven Street, Strand," she muttered.  "Ten miles to King's Hampton.
+Ten o'clock to half-past one; I can do it easy, and at ten o'clock
+to-morrow morning, my dear, we shall see!"
+
+She said these words with a vicious little hiss, and the next minute two
+well-oiled bolts were shot, the key was turned, the door opened with a
+sharp crack, and then there was a rustle as Dally passed through, closed
+the door with a light click of the latch, and stood in the semi-darkness
+of a soft starlight night.
+
+Drawing a long breath, as if to get a reserve of force, the girl stepped
+quickly along the path leading round to the front, passing as soon as
+she could on to the closely-cut lawn, and over it to the gate.
+
+She had nearly reached it, bag in one hand and umbrella in the other,
+when she turned quickly round to see that she was not observed by any
+one in the curate's study; and as she did so she plumped up against
+something hard and yet soft.
+
+"Oh!" she involuntarily ejaculated, and she started back, as that which
+she had thumped against took a step forward, and she found that she was
+face to face with Joe Chegg.
+
+"Where are you going?" he said sourly.
+
+Dally was too much startled for a moment to speak.  Then, recovering
+herself, she said shortly:
+
+"What's that to you?"
+
+"Heverything," replied Joe, in a low growl.  "Parson said I was to look
+out about the place; and I'm a-looking.  Where are you going?"
+
+Dally drew her breath with a hiss.  It was maddening to be stopped at a
+time like this, when every minute was of importance; and the mail train
+was always punctual at King's Hampton at half-past one.
+
+"D'yer hear?" said Joe.  "Well, if you won't answer me, come on to
+parson, and tell him."
+
+"No, no, Joe Chegg; don't stop me, please," she said softly.  "Gran'fa's
+ill, and I'm going to take him something."
+
+"At quarter arter ten, eh?  No, you arn't.  Old Moredock went to bed at
+half-past eight, for I run down and looked in at his windy 'fore he
+drawed the blind.  Yes, I run down and see."
+
+"What's that got to do with it?" cried Dally.  "How dare you stop me?"
+
+"Parson said I was to look out."
+
+"Master didn't tell you to stop me, you great stupid.  Let me go by."
+
+"Nay, I shan't," said Joe.  "You're off on larks, and he arn't here
+now."
+
+"Who isn't here?" cried Dally.
+
+"You know.  He's gone to London, where he'd better stop."
+
+Daily's wrath hissed again, and she was about to say something angrily,
+but she dreaded a scene, and tried the other tack.
+
+"Now, don't be foolish, there's a dear, good man," she said softly.  "I
+just want to go a little way."
+
+"Wi' an umbrella and a bag, eh?" said Joe.  "Parson Salis don't know
+you're off out, I know."
+
+"What nonsense, Joe!"
+
+"Don't you Joe me, ma'am; my name's Mr Chegg, and you wouldn't whisper
+and carny and be civil if you weren't up to some games."
+
+"Oh, what a foolish man you are, Joe Chegg!"
+
+"Oh, I am, arn't I?" said Joe.  "Always going up to the Hall of a night,
+eh?  Gets out o' my bedroom windy, and steals off to meet squires in
+vestry rooms, I do, don't I?"
+
+"Joe Chegg!"
+
+"And carries on as no decent female would wi' my missus's young man."
+
+"Joe Chegg!  Oh, please let me go by," whispered Dally.  "I want to go
+somewhere particular."
+
+"Then want'll be your master, for you're not going without parson says
+you are to.  Come on and ask him."
+
+Joe caught her by the wrist, but she wrested it away, and nearly got
+through the gate, but he was too quick for her.
+
+"That shows as you're up to no good," said Joe.  "You wouldn't fight
+against seeing your master if you weren't off on the sly at half arter
+ten."
+
+"Half-past ten!" cried Dally.  "It isn't."
+
+At that moment the chimes ran out the half-hour, and Dally drew her
+breath hard, and made a desperate effort to pass; but this time Joe
+caught her round the waist and held her, avoiding a scratched face from
+the fact that the girl's hands were gloved.
+
+"How dare you?" she panted, ready to cry hysterically from vexation.
+
+"I dare 'cause I'm told, and I don't believe I did right in letting Miss
+Leo go."
+
+"What?"
+
+Dally suddenly grew limp and ceased to struggle.
+
+"I said I didn't think I did right in letting Miss Leo go, but I didn't
+like to stop her."
+
+"Miss Leo?" panted Dally.  "When?"
+
+"Hour and half ago."
+
+"It's a story.  She's fast asleep in bed."
+
+"Where you ought to be," said Joe.  "So back you go."
+
+"It's a story, I say," panted Dally.  "Miss Leo hasn't been out of her
+room to-night."
+
+"Miss Leo went out of this here gate hour and half ago, just as I come
+back from your gran'father's, and she arn't come back."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+Dally uttered a low, hoarse cry, and turning sharply round ran swiftly
+back to the place from which she had come, closely followed by Joe, in
+whose face the door was closed and the bolt slipped.
+
+In another minute Dally had reached the landing, and was listening at
+Leo's door, which she tried again.
+
+All was still, and, her breath coming and going as if she were
+suppressing hysterical sobs, the girl ran into her bedroom, locked the
+door, threw bag, umbrella, hat and jacket on the bed, opened the window,
+crept out with wonderful activity, rolled down the sloping roof, dropped
+to the ground, and ran over the lawn to the summer-house.
+
+Leo Salis had scaled that rustic edifice many a time with great agility,
+but her skill was poor in comparison with that of the sexton's
+grandchild.  In a few moments she was on the roof, and reaching up to
+Leo's window, the casement yielding to her touch.
+
+She uttered a low sob of rage and doubt now, as, without hesitation, she
+clambered in to run to the bed, and pass her hands over it.
+
+Tenantless; and the cup of tea, heavily drugged with a solution of
+chloral, stood where it had been placed, untouched, upon the table.
+
+Even then the girl was not convinced.  She would not believe in the ill
+success of her plans, and that the handsome woman she despised was as
+keen of wit as herself.
+
+She darted to the wardrobe.
+
+Leo's jacket was gone!
+
+To another part of the room.
+
+The hat she wore was missing!
+
+Then for a moment the girl stood as if dumbfounded, as the thoughts
+crushed down upon her that even if she started now, and could get away,
+she would be too late to catch the London mail.  Worse still: Leo must
+have caught the last up-train at twelve, and long before she could reach
+the great city, would have joined Tom Candlish at the place he had named
+in the note Dally herself had borne; and, though she had planned so
+well, her chances of being Lady Candlish were for ever gone.
+
+She ground her teeth together and panted hoarsely, hardly able to
+breathe for the sobs which struggled for utterance.
+
+"It isn't true.  It's a trick!" she cried at last.  "I won't believe it!
+I'll go and be there first, and then--
+
+"Oh! what shall I do--what shall I do?" she cried hoarsely; and then,
+uttering a wild and passionate shriek of misery and despair, she threw
+herself heavily upon the floor, to tear at the carpet, like some savage
+creature, with tooth and nail.
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XXIII.
+
+DALLY'S HYSTERICS.
+
+Salis ran out into the hall, followed by the doctor, to meet Mary and
+the housekeeper from the other side.
+
+"North?" gasped Salis; he could say no more.
+
+"Sleeping peacefully," said the housekeeper; "what is the matter?"  For
+Mary could not speak.
+
+"Leo must be ill," said Salis, rushing up the stairs to his sister's
+room.
+
+"Leo!  Leo!" he cried, rattling the door-handle.
+
+For answer there was a moaning, almost inhuman, sound.
+
+"Can you open the door?" said the old doctor, who had followed him.  "It
+must be a fit."
+
+"Stand back," cried Salis; and going to the other side of the broad
+landing, he rushed forward, literally hurling himself at the door, which
+flew open with a crash.
+
+The light carried by Mary streamed into the room, and lit up the figure
+grovelling upon the carpet.
+
+In an instant Salis was down upon one knee, and had raised her upon his
+arm.
+
+"Dally!" he cried wonderingly, as the girl writhed and fought and moaned
+in his arms.  The doctor glanced at the hysterical girl.  "Light here,"
+he said sternly; and as Mary wonderingly bore forward the lamp, the old
+man lifted the tea-cup, upon which his eyes had instantly lit, smelled,
+and then cautiously tasted it.  He shook his head.  "Is she poisoned?"
+gasped Salis.  "No," said the old doctor promptly.  "The lamp a little
+nearer, please."
+
+Mary held it towards him, and the old man bent down over Dally and made
+a rapid examination; no easy task, for she was throwing herself about
+wildly, and one hand struck the lamp shade and tore it away.
+
+"That will do," said the doctor in stern, hard tones.  "Here: have you
+another servant?  Get her to bed at once."
+
+As he spoke he seized Dally's wrist, and gave it a jerk.
+
+"Get up!" he said harshly.
+
+"What a shame!" murmured Mrs Milt indignantly.
+
+"Of this girl to make such a disturbance?" said the old doctor, who had
+caught her words.  "Yes, disgraceful, when there is so much trouble.
+That's right; get up.  Not your room, I suppose?"
+
+To the surprise of all, Dally had risen, and stood with her hands
+clenched, looking wildly from one to the other.
+
+"Can you walk to your room, Dally?" said Mary.
+
+The girl nodded sharply, then looked around wildly, and the full force
+of her trouble coming back, she burst into a passion of tears.
+
+"But where is Leo?" cried Salis.  "Where is my sister?"
+
+He darted to the open window and looked out.
+
+"Want me, sir?" said a voice.
+
+"You there, Chegg?  How's that?"
+
+"You telled me to watch, sir."
+
+"Have you seen any one pass?"
+
+"Only Miss Leo, sir," replied the man.
+
+Salis turned from the window, looking as if stunned.
+
+"Gone!" he said wonderingly.
+
+"Yes," cried Dally, mingling her words with sobs of rage and spite.
+"She's gone off with Tom Candlish."
+
+"And you--you wretch--you have helped her," cried Salis, seizing the
+girl by the arm.
+
+"I didn't.  It isn't true.  I've done everything to keep 'em apart; but
+they've cheated and deceived me," cried Dally.  "She's gone up to London
+to meet him--and--and they've gone there."
+
+She tore an envelope from her pocket, and Salis snatched it from her
+hand to read the address in Craven Street.
+
+"Hartley," whispered Mary, clinging to him now, "is it true?"
+
+"Yes," he said hoarsely, "it must be true.  Hush!  I must leave you now.
+Mr Delton, will you stay in the house, and watch over my sister and my
+friend?  I must go away at once."
+
+"There's no train till to-morrow morning at eight," sobbed Dally
+passionately; and she stamped her feet like an angry child as her
+hysterical fit began to return.
+
+"That will do!" said the old doctor sternly, as he grasped the girl's
+wrist once more, and she looked up at him in a startled way, and then
+quailed and subsided into a fit of sobbing.
+
+"Anything I can do, Mr Salis, you may depend on being done."
+
+Salis nodded; he could not speak for a moment, but gazed full in his
+sister's eyes.
+
+"Did you suspect this?" he whispered.
+
+"Oh, no, Hartley," she replied.
+
+"No; you could not have suspected."
+
+He drew a long breath, and seemed to be making an effort to check his
+agony of spirit, and to be forcing himself to act firmly.
+
+"Chegg," he cried from the window, "go round to the front door.  I'll
+meet you there.  Mrs Milt," he said, closing the window, "will you be
+good enough to see this girl to her room?  Stay with her for the
+present.  Mary, poor North is alone," he added; "go down."
+
+"And you, Hartley?"
+
+"I'll follow directly," he said; and as soon as the room was cleared, he
+turned to the old doctor.
+
+"You tasted that tea," he said sharply.
+
+"Yes; strongly flavoured with chloral," he said.
+
+"Chloral?  How could that have got into the tea?  And the girl's fit?
+Not epilepsy?"
+
+"Hysteria.  Rage and disappointment," said the old doctor.  "So it seems
+to me.  There is more beneath the surface than appears.  Mr Salis, what
+can I do to help you?"
+
+"Give me your prayers and ask me nothing," he replied sadly.  "There is
+more beneath the surface, sir."
+
+"I will respect your silence," said the old man, taking his hand.  "You
+are Horace North's friend, sir, and that is sufficient for me.  You are
+going to town?"
+
+Salis nodded.
+
+"My house is at your disposal," said the doctor, and he handed Salis his
+card.
+
+At five o'clock, after due arrangements had been made, Joe Chegg was at
+the door with a chaise, ready to drive Salis over to the station at
+King's Hampton; but, long before that, Dally had begged Mrs Milt to
+"fetch Miss Mary," to whom the half-wild, sobbing girl had made a clean
+breast, of all she knew, and this had been communicated to the curate.
+
+"I need not fear leaving North--I mean on my sister's behalf?" said
+Salis, as he stood by the chaise.
+
+"Trust to me, my dear sir, and go without fear."
+
+Salis climbed into the chaise, and, with his head bent, was driven off
+through the chilly morning air in search of the fugitive who had nine
+hours' start; and as he recalled this he muttered: "I am too late!"
+
+Volume 3, Chapter XXIV.
+
+OUT OF THE SHADOW.
+
+Hartley Salis found that his words were correct.
+
+He was too late!
+
+He learned that "a gentleman," as the people at the hotel called him,
+had been staying at the hotel, that a lady, evidently Leo, had come in
+by the early train, and that they had gone.
+
+"Heaven only knows where, Mary, dear," said Salis a week later, as he
+lay upon the couch, utterly worn out with his efforts to trace the
+fugitives.  "I am broken down.  Thank God, dear, I am once more at home.
+And you?"
+
+"My dearest brother," she said tenderly, as she knelt beside him and
+laid her hand upon his burning brow.
+
+"Ah, that's cool and pleasant," he sighed, with his eyes closed.  "Tell
+me about North--more than your letters said."
+
+"He is better--much better," said Mary, with an eagerness she made no
+attempt to conceal.
+
+"Yes," said Salis wearily; "so Mr Delton said."
+
+"Yes; so Mr Delton said, and he also said, my dear sir, that you too
+must have rest; your sister, recovering from her own illness, cannot
+afford to have two invalids on her hands."
+
+Salis looked up, and held out his hand to the old doctor, who had
+uttered the words softly, as doctors do: "You have hardly had a good
+night's rest since you left."
+
+"I have not been to bed," said Salis simply.  "There, I will try and
+sleep now."
+
+The doctor made Mary a sign, and she drew back as Salis closed his eyes,
+and the breakfast which had been prepared as he drove in that morning
+from King's Hampton after travelling all night remained untasted.
+
+That was at seven o'clock, and it was seven at night when he awoke to
+look sharply round, and see Mary at the head of the couch.
+
+"I--where am--?  Have I been asleep?"
+
+"Yes," said Mary softly.
+
+"Hah!" he ejaculated, springing up.  "I have done all I could, Mary," he
+said almost appealingly.  "I think they are married.  It's a proud thing
+for us, dear, to have a lady of title for sister," he added bitterly, as
+he took Mary to his heart, and she felt it throbbing with his emotion.
+
+"There," he said, after a few minutes' struggle, "now for other duties.
+I still have you."
+
+The pressure of Mary's hand spoke more than words, and the poor fellow
+sat at last, feeling that, after all, there were great compensations in
+life.
+
+The sight of a well-dressed visitor coming up to the house interrupted
+their quiet communion, just as they had felt that no more could be done
+respecting Leo, after Salis had been placed _au courant_ with the state
+of affairs at the Rectory.  Among others that Dally had been to and fro
+several times to see her grandfather, but had settled down to her work
+as of old.
+
+In fact that young lady entered the room directly after the ringing of
+the gate bell, to state that Mrs Berens was in the drawing-room, and
+wanted to see master "partickler."
+
+"I will see her for you, Hartley," said Mary.
+
+"No," replied Salis firmly; "I want work to keep my brain quiet, or I
+shall be ill.  Show her in here, Dally."
+
+"No, no, I will fetch her," said Mary, smiling at her brother's want of
+etiquette.
+
+She left the room to return directly.
+
+"Come and see her, Hartley," she said.  "Poor woman, she is in sad
+trouble."
+
+"Hah!  I am glad," cried Salis.  "Something to think about.  The best
+medicine for me."
+
+"Oh, Mr Salis, what shall I do?  What you have so often said!" sobbed
+Mrs Berens, as he entered the room, and she clung to his extended hand.
+
+"What I have so often said?"
+
+"Yes; about riches.  I'm a poor, helpless woman now.  All gone--all
+gone!"
+
+It was a long story about how she had allowed herself to be influenced
+by Cousin Thompson, whom she had permitted to make investment after
+investment till he seemed to have got the whole of the widow's money
+into his hands.
+
+"And all went so well till that day when I offended him, dear Mr Salis.
+Since then I have had nothing but bad news about my property, and now I
+can get no answers from him at all."
+
+"A scoundrel!" cried Salis; "but what day do you mean?"
+
+"That day when--must I tell you everything?"
+
+"If you wish for my help," said Salis sharply.
+
+"I do, Mr Salis; but pray don't speak angrily to me.  I am so broken
+and unhappy now."
+
+"My dear madam, I want to help you.  Pray tell me all."
+
+"He came down to me one day--I have the date somewhere--and he proposed
+to me.  I refused him at once, for I quite disliked the man, and he went
+away my enemy, I'm sure, and when I heard of his conduct towards his
+cousin, I felt that I had had a narrow escape from a perfect fiend.  And
+now, Mr Salis, what shall I do?"
+
+"The dog!" ejaculated Salis.  "I'm longing for occupation; leave it to
+me, Mrs Berens.  I've been seeing a friend--my solicitor--in town about
+North's affair with his cousin; we'll work the two together, and if Mr
+Thompson does not mind, he'll find himself in a strange fix."
+
+Cousin Thompson did find himself in a strange fix, and what with threats
+of proceedings against him for conspiracy and fraud, he was very glad to
+compound matters in a way which restored two-thirds of her comfortable
+little fortune to Mrs Berens.
+
+What time these proceedings were going on, North was gradually improving
+under Mr Delton's care, though the old gentleman laughed, and said that
+the improvement was not due to him.
+
+Certainly it was the case that when North had his often-recurring fits
+of imagination, when he was fully convinced that the essence of Luke
+Candlish was with him still, and he turned wild with horror, the touch
+of Mary Salis' soft, cool hand laid across his eyes, where he held it as
+a talisman, invariably exorcised the fancied spirit, and the ghost was
+laid.
+
+From recurring daily and with terrible force, the fits came at last
+weekly, and then a month passed before one came, and that was slight.
+
+Then more and more feeble, and then they came no more.
+
+There could only be one result to such intercourse as this.  Horace
+North gradually awakened to the fact that he had been blind as well as
+partly demented; but a year had elapsed before one day Salis and Mrs
+Berens entered the Rectory drawing-room to find Mary sobbing gently on
+the young doctor's breast, and heard her say:
+
+"I always loved you from the first."
+
+"Ah, Salis, you here?" said North, rising without a shade of
+discomposure on his face.  "_Mens sana in corpore sano_, old fellow.  I
+have been asking dear Mary if she will be my wife."
+
+"My dear Horace," cried Salis, his face flushing with pleasure, "Heaven
+bless you both!  I am glad: but--er--the fact is, I have been betrayed
+into asking Mrs Berens--er--to--"
+
+"Dear, dear Mary!" sobbed the homely, simple-hearted woman; "don't,
+don't be angry with me.  I do love him so."
+
+Another year had passed, but there had been nothing definite heard about
+Leo.
+
+Then came a black-bordered envelope, with the direction in her hand,
+asking her brother to help her, for she was in terrible straits in
+London with her child.  There was plenty of money to be had, she said,
+but everything was in confusion, and the agent of Sir Thomas Candlish
+refused to acknowledge her as the late baronet's wife.
+
+But the energy of Hartley Salis soon set this right.
+
+For old Moredock's notion had proved to be correct.  Tom Candlish had
+literally drunk himself to death, and the old man, who had been giving
+Horace North a good deal of trouble lately, and who was exceedingly
+fractious and jealous of his grandchild's young husband, his deputy at
+the church, suddenly perked up on hearing that "young Squire Tom" was to
+be brought down from London to the family mausoleum.
+
+There was a grand funeral, and the old man, helped by Joe Chegg, got
+through his part of the business with a good deal of his old energy.
+
+All was over, and Horace North, who had been one of the mourners, as
+brother-in-law of Lady Candlish of the Hall, was about to turn away,
+with his mind strongly exercised by the scene, and the recollections it
+evoked, when he started, for he felt his sleeve plucked.
+
+He turned sharply round to find himself alone, gazing at the old sexton,
+as he gave him one of his ghoulish grins--more hideous than ever.
+
+"Now, gran'fa," said a quick voice, and a rosy little woman, who had
+evidently been crying, took his arm, "you're tired out, and must come
+home.  Joe will finish what's to be done."
+
+"Go 'way! go 'way!" cried the old man angrily.
+
+"No, no, dear; don't worrit Dr North now.  He'll come and see you
+another time."
+
+"Go 'way! go 'way!" cried the old man again; and then, laying his
+hideous, gnarled hand upon the doctor's arm: "Don't want to try no more
+'speriments, do you, doctor, eh?"
+
+North looked at him wildly, and could hardly keep back a shudder.
+
+"No, no, Moredock," he said, recovering himself.
+
+"But you'll come and see me to-morrow, doctor, won't you?"
+
+North nodded, and walked away to Salis, who was waiting for him at the
+vestry door, and they entered one of the carriages to return to the
+Hall, while, after watching them go, the old man seated himself upon the
+mausoleum steps, where he could watch while his new grandson and deputy
+finished his duty, and the great door was closed.
+
+"Too terrible to attempt," muttered North to himself.  "A narrow escape
+from a living death, but I still think that I was right."
+
+"Ay, Joe; ay, Dally; doctor's a clever man, and I could tell you some
+strange tales about he; but no, no; no, no!  Lock that gate quickly, and
+help me home.  I'm a little stiff about the back.  Lock him up, lad!
+lock him up!  Now, Dally, let's get back.  Another Candlish there; eh!
+my lady, eh!"
+
+"Gran'fa!" cried Dally furiously; and the old man broke out into a
+chuckling laugh, which nearly killed him, and he had to sit down on a
+tomb and be patted on the back, and his collar loosened, and then helped
+slowly home, looking very limp and strange, though with the doctor's
+help he managed to survive another year.
+
+The night of the funeral, when the doctor and his young wife returned
+from the Hall, where the handsome young widow sat alone with her weak,
+sickly child, North had a return of his imaginative malady; but Mary's
+hand was talismanic still, and the shadow passed away, never to return.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Man with a Shadow, by George Manville Fenn
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