"I have already promised to mention nothing of what I see or hear in this house to a living soul," he said, a trace of irritation creeping into his quiet voice. "I shall keep my promise. I cannot say more than that. Is there someone you wish me to see?" The woman's dark eyes turned to Christina, who stood at the foot of the bed, a silent and interested spectator of the strange little scene. "I want the doctor to see my--the sick man you helped," she said in faltering accents. "Will you take him to the room you went to last night? Will you explain that I--that Madge begs him to tell the doctor all about his illness? He--he may be angry," she looked into Fergusson's eyes again, "but I think--you will understand--I think you will soothe him." "Is he----" Fergusson was beginning, when one of those restlessly moving hands touched his. "Please--don't ask me to tell you--who he is," she said earnestly; "he has been very ill; he has only come here--since he was convalescent," again her eyes fell before the doctor's glance, "but before he came here he was very ill, and in great trouble. Ah! be good to him," she exclaimed, her enforced calm of manner suddenly giving way; "let him have peace now; he has had such a troubled life." The tortured look in her eyes touched Fergusson deeply, his hand closed over her trembling one with a strong, reassuring grasp. "I will do my best for him," he said cheerily; "and I will ask no unnecessary questions. You need not be afraid that I shall try to find out anything beyond his physical symptoms. Trust me." And with another kindly glance from those eminently trustworthy eyes of his, he bade Christina lead the way to his new patient. In silence they traversed the passage by which Christina had passed along on the previous night, but as she knocked on the door of the sick man's apartment, the doctor stooped towards her and whispered:-- "I don't know whether I ought to let you be mixed up in what may turn out an unpleasant mystery. Would you rather go away at once? I can explain my own presence to this man." Christina shook her head, and her mouth took on a little determined look, which Fergusson learnt to recognise later on as one of her most marked characteristics. "No--I will do what she asked me to do," she said. "I am not afraid of mysteries, and I must help my beautiful lady as much as ever I can." So saying, she turned the handle of the door, in response to an impatient "Come in!" and she and Fergusson entered together. The sick man lay propped up with pillows, his eyes turned towards the door, a fretful expression on his face, an expression which turned to one of acute fear, when he saw the doctor's form behind Christina. "Who are you?" he exclaimed, shrinking back and trembling violently. "Why have you come here? I tell you I am all right in this place; you can't do me any harm now; I am safe--safe--why----"