Before they reached the door, however, the discussion broke out again. Mr. Booley had been held in check for a few moments by Mr. Juxon's determined manner, but as he followed the squire he began to regret that he had yielded so far and he made a fresh assertion of his rights. "I cannot see why you want to keep me outside," he said. "What difference can it make, I should like to know?" "You will have to take my word for it that it does make a difference," said the doctor, testily. "If you frighten the man, he will die. Now then, here we are." "I don't like your tone, sir," said Booley angrily, again trying to push past the physician. "I think I must insist, after all. I will go in with you--I tell you I will, sir--don't stop me." Doctor Longstreet, who was fifteen or twenty years older than the detective but still strong and active, gripped his arm quickly, and held him back. "If you go into that room without my permission, and if the man dies of fright, I will have an action brought against you for manslaughter," he said in a loud voice. "And I will support it," said the squire. "I am justice of the peace here, and what is more, I am in my own house. Do not think your position will protect you." Again Mr. Juxon's authoritative tone checked the detective, who drew back, making some angry retort which no one heard. The squire tried the door and finding it locked, knocked softly, not realising that every word of the altercation had been heard within. "Who is there?" asked John, who though he had heard all that had been said was uncertain of the issue. "Let in Doctor Longstreet," said the squire's voice. But meanwhile Mrs. Ambrose and Mary Goddard were standing on each side of the sick man. He must have heard the noises outside, and they conveyed some impression to his brain. "Mary, Mary!" he groaned indistinctly. "Save me--they are coming--I cannot get away--softly, he is coming--now--I shall just catch him as he goes by--Ugh! that dog--oh! oh!--" With a wild shriek, the wretched man sprang up, upon his knees, his eyes starting out, his face transfigured with horror. For one instant he remained thus, half-supported by the two terror-struck women; then with a groan his head drooped forward upon his breast and he fell back heavily upon the pillows, breathing still but quite unconscious. Doctor Longstreet entered at that moment and ran to his side. But when he saw him he paused. Even Mrs. Ambrose was white with horror, and Mary Goddard stood motionless, staring down at her husband, her hands gripping the disordered coverlet convulsively.