Hemstead could not speak, even to Lottie. With white face and set teeth he sought to keep up to the end. The effort he was now putting forth was less that of muscle than sheer force of will. As with Miss Martell, he, too, was reacting from the tremendous strain that the last hour had brought. He trembled with almost mortal weakness as he slowly mounted the piazza steps. He staggered under his share of their burden as he crossed the hall. Lottie, puzzled by his silence, now saw his deathly pallor with alarm, and instinctively stood at his side. "You had better take Miss Martell directly to her room," said Mrs. Marchmont. "In here, quick," gasped Hemstead. He tottered to the nearest sofa, and, a second later, lay unconscious at Miss Martell's feet. At this moment Alice again became conscious. Hemstead's condition did more to revive her than all restoratives; for, woman-like, she thought of him more than herself. She sat up and exclaimed faintly: "O, can't something be done for him? Quick. It looks as if he had given his life for us"; and she looked around, not far enough to see the expression of Harcourt's face as he welcomed her back to consciousness, but only to see Addie clinging to his arm, repeatedly asking to be assured that he was not hurt. "Thank heaven you are safe," he bent down and whispered. "Don't think of me. Look at Mr. Hemstead." Again he misunderstood her, and with bitterness thought, "After all my anguish on her account, she gives me not even a thought, and her first words are, 'Don't think of me';" and he felt that fate had been very cruel in sending Hemstead to her rescue instead of himself. Mrs. Marchmont now appeared upon the confused scene, and proved that she was equal to the occasion. It was a sad pity that she had not imparted to her daughter a little of her own capability. She bade De Forrest, and the still stout and hearty ex-sailor, carry Hemstead at once to his room, while she and one of the maids assisted Miss Martell to hers. No opportunity whatever was given for any romantic and affecting scenes. Lottie had stood for a second in dismay, after seeing her "true knight" sink on the floor, and then, like a sensible girl, instead of going off into hysterics, went like a flash to her aunt's wine-closet for brandy. But before she could find it Mrs. Marchmont had caused both the rescued and the rescuer to be conveyed to the privacy of their own rooms, where they could at once receive the prosaic treatment that their condition required. The room which a moment before had presented a scene which she would never forget was empty, Harcourt having gone for a physician.