The woman started and drew away, and Caleb saw it. Dr. Cheyney shook his head apprehensively. “Very ill,” he said; “he was taken with a sinking spell about noon. Come in, Caleb, and I’ll tell you about it.” Trench stood aside to let the veiled woman pass out, and then he followed Dr. Cheyney into the study with a face of some anxiety. He looked worn and old for his years, but resolutely calm. “How do you think he really is?” he asked. Dr. Cheyney sank down into his easy-chair by the fire. “I’m not sure that he’ll live,” he said despondently. Trench frowned, making an inarticulate sound. The firelight flared on his face now, and its expression was significant. Dr. Cheyney bent down and began a desultory search for his carpet slippers; even in the most interesting moments of life, physical discomforts pinch the unwary, and the old man’s feet ached. “He’s worn out, broken-hearted,” he said, referring to his old friend and removing his boots absently. “He’s taken this affair to heart, too.” “Jacob Eaton?” The doctor nodded. “Smooth young scamp,” he said bitterly, “I always wanted to deal out the husks to him, but I reckon he’ll get ’em in the Lord’s good time. It’s pretty bad, I suppose, Caleb.” “Worse than we thought,” replied Caleb. “The Harrisons’ bank closed its doors to-night; he’s wrecked it and there’s a terrible panic in the city. I wonder if he took much with him?” “All he could get, I reckon,” mused the doctor, his mind dwelling not on Jacob but on Letty, and the climax which he saw impending. Meanwhile Caleb Trench sat staring into the fire. “I’m afraid Colonel Royall will suffer heavily,” he said; “he wasn’t so deeply involved, it appears, but--as soon as he heard of the wide-spread ruin--he offered to redeem a number of Jacob Eaton’s pledges. His offer was accepted, the papers signed, and now all these claims are rolling up. I honor him for what he did,” Trench added simply; “it was noble, but it was quixotic. I fear greatly for the consequences.” Dr. Cheyney settled himself back in his winged chair and put the tips of his fingers together. “I think likely he’ll escape it all,” he remarked gravely; “he was unconscious twenty minutes to-day and David isn’t as young as he was. He may be fortunate enough to pass beyond this trouble.” Trench moved uneasily, then he rose and stood, his back to the fire. “And Miss Royall?” he said. “She’s with her father,” replied Dr. Cheyney. “Caleb, I never saw anything so fine as she was at your trial.” Trench was silent for a moment, and his face in the shadow eluded scrutiny. “I would have given my right hand to save her that notoriety,” he said at last.