Outside, braving the wind and the rain and the storm, the huddled figure, with its head sunk on its chest, leaned wearily, as if mutely pleading for shelter, against the fast closed door. The small hours of the morning came, and went. Still the figure was motionless. Spitefully the lashing rain beat down as if to rouse it; fiercely the gale, howling and moaning through the deserted streets, stopped to beat and buffet it; yet strangely, the figure, gazing with fixed, unseeing eyes, made no effort to resist, no effort to move. Governor Gordon slept soundly indeed. CHAPTER III THE HAND OF GOD Vanulm, standing by the window, hat in hand, abstractedly watched the carriage swing smoothly down the street and stop, with a jingle of harness, in front of his door. Abstractedly he walked slowly down the steps and out toward the street, and had even started to get into the carriage, for once without remembering his never-failing word to the coachman on the box, so that the dignified James, violating much against his will all the traditions of his craft, was at last obliged to speak without first being spoken to. With a preliminary cough he touched his hat. "Begging your pardon, sir," he said, "but is there any chance?" Vanulm, coming to himself with a start, glanced quickly up. Then slowly he shook his head. "The doctors think not, James," he answered; "we can only hope they may be wrong. We'll drive straight to the hospital, please." The coachman touched his hat again, and at the word the spirited grays, chafing at the delay, swung swiftly away down the avenue. Out through the long, smooth streets they sped, out through the Arborway, flower and bush and tree still lying cool and green and fair in the splendor of the soft Indian summer day; now slower and slower as the gradually recurring hills grew more frequent and more frequent still, until at last, at the summit, they drew up before the door of the hospital, isolated, restful, serene, looking far off over the valley and the broad blue river winding peacefully along through the cool, green fields, in the wistfully lingering sunshine of the waning afternoon. Doctor Stratton, the foremost man of his day, slight, alert, composed, met them at the door. With a curt word of greeting he led the way within, and motioned Vanulm to a seat. For a moment or two he sat silent, a troubled frown upon his face. Then he glanced quickly up.