"No," he said, "that would not do, Harry. The law fences us round against robbery and murder, just as it does women against abduction. You are not in your senses. You were drinking last night. Go back home and have a long sleep. You'll be better then." The young man glanced at him sharply and left the room. Ten minutes spent in deep thought were passed by Garstang, who then rose, replaced the papers in the tin case, and crossed and rang the bell. "Send Mr Harry here." "He went out as soon as he left your room, sir." "Thank you; that will do." Then, as the door closed upon the clerk, Garstang said softly: "So that's it; then it is quite time to act." CHAPTER FOUR. "Will that Doctor never come!" muttered plump Mrs Wilton, who had been for the past ten minutes running from her niece's bedside to one of the front casement windows of the fine old Kentish Manor House, to watch the road through the park. "He might have come from London by this time. There, it's of no use; it's fate, and fate means disappointment. She'll die; I'm sure she'll die, and all that money will go to those wretched Morrisons. Why did he go out to the farms this morning? Any other morning would have done; and Claud away, too. Was ever woman so plagued?--Yes, what is it? Oh, it's you, Eliza. How is she?" "Quite insensible, ma'am. Is the Doctor never coming?" "Don't ask me, Eliza. I sent the man over in the dog-cart, with instructions to bring him back." "Then pray, pray come and stay with me in the bedroom, ma'am." "But I can't do anything, Eliza, and it isn't as if she were my own child. I couldn't bear to see her die." "Mrs Wilton!" cried the woman, wildly. "Oh, my poor darling young mistress, whom I nursed from a babe--die!" "Here's master--here's Mr Wilton," cried the rosy-faced lady from the window, and making a dash at a glass to see that her cap was right, she hurried out of the room and down the broad oaken stairs to meet her lord at the door. "Hallo, Maria, what's the matter?" he cried, meeting her in the hall, his high boots splashed with mud, and a hunting whip in his hand. "Oh, my dear, I'm so glad you've come! Kate--fainting fits--one after the other--dying." "The devil! What have you done?" "Cold water--vinegar--burnt--" "No, no. Haven't you sent for the Doctor?" "Yes, I sent Henry with the dog-cart to fetch Mr Leigh." "Mr Leigh! Were you mad? What do you know about Mr Leigh? Bah, you always were a fool!" "Yes, my dear, but what was I to do? It would have taken three hours to get--Oh, here he is." For there was the grating of carriage wheels on the drive, the dog-cart drew up, and Pierce Leigh sprang down and entered the hall. Mrs Wilton glanced timidly at her husband, who gave her a sulky nod, and then turned to the young Doctor. "My young niece--taken bad," he said, gruffly, "You'd better go up and see her. Here, Maria, take him up."