"What's the good of a screw, I'd like to know? Did you ever know one what was worth his salt? I never did. Look at that beast, Slater, great fat brute, what'd get a man three days' bread-and-water as soon as look at him. A little bread and water'd do him good. Look at old Murray--call a man like that chief warder. I wonder what a chief fat-head's like? As for the governor--as for the governor--as--for--the--governor----" The chapel was in confusion. The officers rose in their seats. Mr. Paley stood up in his pew, looking whiter than he was wont to do. It seemed as though the chaplain was struggling with an unseen antagonist. He writhed and twisted, contending, as it were, with something--or some one--which appeared to be in front of him. His sentence remained unfinished. All at once he collapsed, and, sinking into a heap, lay upon the steps of the altar--still. "Take the men out," said the governor's quiet voice. The men were taken out. The schoolmaster was already at the chaplain's side. With him were two or three of the prisoners who sang in the choir. The governor and the inspector came and looked down at the senseless man. "Seems to be in a sort of fit," the schoolmaster said. "Let some one go and see if the doctor has arrived. Ask him to come up here at once." With that the governor left the chapel, the inspector going with him. "It's no good our staying. He'll be all right. I--I don't feel quite well." Major Hardinge looked at him shrewdly out of the corner of his eyes. "Does he drink?" "Not that I am aware of. I have never heard of it before. I should say certainly not." "Is he mad?" "No-o--he has his peculiarities--but he certainly is not mad." "Is he subject to fits?" "I have not known of his having one before." When they reached the office the Major began to pace about. "That chaplain of yours must be stark mad." "If so, it is a very sudden attack." "Did you hear what he said?" "Very well indeed." "Never heard such a thing in my life! Is he in the habit of using such language?" "Hardly. Perhaps we had better leave it till we hear what the doctor says. Possibly there is some simple explanation. I am afraid the chaplain is unwell." "If he isn't unwell, I don't know what he is. Upon my word, Paley, I can't congratulate you upon the figure Canterstone Jail has cut during the last few days. I don't know what sort of report I shall have to make." The governor winced. When, a few minutes afterwards, the doctor entered, he began upon the subject at once. "How is the chaplain, doctor?" Dr. Livermore gave a curious glance about him. Then he shook hands with the inspector. Then he sat down. Taking off his hat, he wiped his brow. "Well? Anything wrong?" "The chaplain says he is bewitched." The governor looked at the inspector, and the inspector looked at him. "Bewitched?" said Mr. Paley. "I told you the man was mad," the inspector muttered. "Hush!" the doctor whispered. "Here he comes."