The commodore continued to ring the bell furiously, peal upon peal, until the hall footman rushed in with alarm. “Go after that tramping vagabond and kick him out of the house! Then call all the dogs and set them on him and hunt him off the premises! Do you hear?” “Yes, sir,” replied the man as he went out, dismayed, to give place to Wren, the little page, whom the violent ringing of the bell had also brought to the scene. “WATER!” cried the commodore, who was now engaged in trying to recover the fainting woman. The boy vanished and soon reappeared with a silver pitcher and goblet. The commodore poured some on his hand and threw it in the face of the lady and waited for the effect, but she showed no sign of consciousness. “Brandy! From the beaufet! In the library!” he cried in growing alarm. The page ran away and soon re-entered with a decanter and glass. The commodore poured out a little of the brandy, and, holding up the head of the helpless woman, tried to force a few drops between her lips, but the liquid only tippled over the surface. “I don’t know what on earth to do for her! She forbid me to call the ladies to see her before she fainted, and it seems hardly fair to do so now that she cannot defend herself! And I don’t know how to recover her, not I!” cried the commodore in despair. Then turning furiously on the footman, who had re-entered the study, he demanded: “Did you do as I ordered? Did you kick that vagrant out and set the dogs on him?” “Yes, sir,” replied the man, unhesitatingly telling a fib, for he had not sought for the poor tramp with any such cruel intention, as was afterward proved. “Served him right! Glad to hear it!” grunted the old man, as he recommenced his efforts to recover his patient, but in vain. Suddenly he remembered the presence of the physician in the house, and wondered he had not thought of him before. “Go and ask Dr. Willet to be kind enough to step here immediately,” he said. “If you please, sir, Dr. Willet has gone out,” said the footman. “Gone out! the deuce! How unlucky! Where has he gone?” “If you please, sir, to the Wilderness Manor-house. Mr. John Palmer he came all in a hurry for de doctor, sir, to go to the ageable old woman what is dying dere and wants to see the doctor afore she goes, which dey don’t think she can last another day, sir.” “How very unfortunate!” exclaimed the old man, who never ceased from his ineffectual efforts to recover his patient. “I do not know where to turn! She will die, and all on account of that cursed tramp!” Then bursting forth like a storm upon the head of the footman, he violently demanded: “And what did _you_ mean, you rascal, by sending that ruffian in here to frighten this poor lady to death? Yes, to _death_, you villain! And when she dies I’ll have you hanged for murder! I will, by my life! Why don’t you answer me, you scoundrel? What did you mean by showing that burglar, that robber, that cut-throat, into this room to kill this lady?”