"I daresay I shall not die till to-morrow, or next day--but I will not live," he said with sudden energy. "Do you understand me, I will not live! Bah!" he cried, falling back upon his pillow, "the grapes are sour--I can't live if I would. Oh yes, I know all about that--my sins. Well, I am sorry for them. I am sorry, Mary. But it is very little good--people always laugh at--deathbed repentance--" He stopped and his thoughts seemed wandering. Mary Goddard gave him something to drink and tried to calm him. But he moved restlessly, though feebly. "Softly, softly," he murmured again. "He is coming--close to me. Get ready--now--no not yet, yes--now. Ugh!" yelled Goddard, suddenly springing up, his eyes starting from his head. "Ugh! the dog--oh!" "Hush, Walter," cried his wife, pushing him back. "Hush--no one will hurt you." "What--is that you, Mary?" asked the sick man, trembling violently. Then he laughed harshly. "I was off again. Pshaw! I did not really mean to hurt him--he need not have set that beast at me. He did not catch me though--Mary, I am going to die--will you pray for me? You are a good woman--somebody will hear your prayers, I daresay. Do, Mary--I shall feel better somehow, though I daresay it is very foolish of me." "No, Walter--not foolish, not foolish. Would you like me to call Mr. Ambrose? he is a clergyman--he is in the house." "No, no. You Mary, you--nobody will hear anybody else's prayers--for me--for poor me--" "Try and pray with me, Walter," said Mary Goddard, very quietly. She seemed to have an unnatural strength given to her in that hour of distress and horror. She knelt down by the bedside and took his wounded hand in hers, tenderly, and she prayed aloud in such words as she could find. Below, in the study, the detective had just finished telling his tale to the squire, and the wheels of Doctor Longstreet's dog-cart ground upon the gravel outside. The two men looked at each other for a moment, and Mr. Juxon spoke first. "That is the doctor," said he. "I will ask you to have patience for five minutes, Mr. Booley. He will give you his opinion. I am still very much shocked at what you have told me--I had no idea what had happened." "No--I suppose not," answered Mr. Booley calmly. "If you will ask the medical man to step in here for one moment, I will explain matters to him. I don't think he will differ much from me." "Very well," returned the squire, leaving the room. He went to meet Doctor Longstreet, intending to warn him of the presence of Mr. Booley, and meaning to entreat his support for the purpose of keeping Goddard in the house until he should be recovered. He passed through the library and exchanged a few words with Mr. Ambrose, explaining that the doctor had come. Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose were sitting on opposite sides of the fireplace in huge chairs, with a mournful air of resigned expectation upon their worthy faces. The detective remained alone in the study.