We walked up the road together, and my glance fell on the plot of ground on the right, covered so thickly with little wooden crosses. As I looked away the doctor's eyes and mine met. And there was the same thought in both our minds. * * * * * Three days later I was in Hugh's house. His wife met me at the station, and before we got into the car my heart sank. I knew something was wrong. "How is he?" I asked, as we swung out of the gates. "Oh! Ginger," she said. "I'm frightened--frightened to death." "What is it, lady," I cried. "Has he been looking at you like that again, the way you described in the letter?" "Yes--it's getting more frequent. And at nights--oh! my God! it's awful. Poor old Hugh." She broke down at that, while I noticed that her hands were all trembling, and that dark shadows were round her eyes. "Tell me about it," I said, "for we must do something." She pulled herself together, and called through the speaking-tube to the chauffeur. "Go a little way round, Jervis. I don't want to get in till tea-time." Then she turned to me. "Since his operation I've been using another room." The doctor's words flashed into my mind. "Sir William thought it essential that he should have really long undisturbed nights, and I'm such a light sleeper. For a few weeks everything panned out splendidly. He seemed to get better and stronger, and he was just the same dear old Hugh he's always been. Then gradually the restlessness started; he couldn't sleep, he became irritable,--and the one thing which made him most irritable of all was any suggestion that he wasn't going on all right; or any hint even that he should see a doctor. Then came the incident I wrote to you about. Since that evening I've often caught the same look in his eye." She shuddered, and again I noticed the quiver in her hands, but she quickly controlled herself. "Last night, I woke up suddenly. It must have been about three, for it was pitch dark, and I think I'd been asleep some hours. I don't know what woke me; but in an instant I knew there was someone in the room. I lay trembling with fright, and suddenly out of the darkness came a hideous chuckle. It was the most awful, diabolical noise I've ever heard. Then I heard his voice. "He was muttering, and all I could catch were the words 'Death-Grip.' I nearly fainted with terror, but forced myself to keep consciousness. How long he stood there I don't know, but after an eternity it seemed, I heard the door open and shut. I heard him cross the passage, and go into his own room. Then there was silence. I forced myself to move; I switched on the light, and locked the door. And when dawn came in through the windows, I was still sitting in a chair sobbing, shaking like a terrified child. "This morning he was perfectly normal, and just as cheerful and loving as he'd ever been. Oh! Ginger, what am I to do?" She broke down and cried helplessly.