"Vanulm," he said abruptly, "this whole business of getting you to come out here comes pretty near being unprofessional. In the first place, the governor's going to die; there's not the slightest doubt of that whatever. If any man with that hole through him could live, he's the one. He's got more nerve and more will power than any man I've ever met, and that's saying a good deal, too; I've seen some plucky men in my time. But--no human being with that wound could pull through, and I doubt if he can even last out the night. Now, on the one hand, you can't fail to excite him, and will probably hasten the end; on the other hand, he's evidently got something on his mind that troubles him, and you're the one man he wants to tell it to. Therefore, considering his temperament, to me it seems better, even if it does result badly, to let him see you. Not to allow it would be rank cruelty. Simply, if you can help it, don't let him excite himself, and above all, don't let him make any attempt to raise himself in bed. I'll be directly outside, if you should want me. That's all. I suppose we might as well go up now." He rose, and Vanulm, following suit, laid his hand for a moment on Stratton's arm. "Just one question, Doctor," he said, "suppose he starts to talk about how it happened. Shall I let him go on?" The physician shook his head. "He won't," he answered, "I even tried him on it myself, and his answer was most curious. 'I'm not talking,' he said. 'It was the same game with both of us. Let him get away with it, for all of me,' and not another word would he say. So come, we'd better not waste time." As quietly as possible, Vanulm entered the darkened room and took his way over to the narrow bed by the window. In spite of all the doctor had said, he could scarcely repress a start. The face that looked up at him was fearfully changed--haggard, unshaven, pale, drawn with pain--only the eyes, upturned to meet his own, gleamed still with all the unquenchable fire of old. Gordon's mouth half parted in the pathetic semblance of a smile, and more by his glance than by any real movement of his head, he signed his visitor to take the chair that stood beside his bed. In silence Vanulm did so, and Gordon, with evident effort, began to speak, his voice not strong, and yet distinct and clear. "I knew you'd come, Herman," he said. "Devil of a time to get 'em to send for you, but Stratton's a pretty good sort, though. Not a damn pompous old fool like most of 'em. I suppose he's told you. I'm dying. He told me this morning. Thought it was news, but I knew it already. It doesn't need a doctor when the time comes. Any fool can tell--"