“Oh, I shan’t do that; you needn’t fear. I will say that for myself, I have got nerve.” “You’re splendid,” said Dr. Ramsay. “I tell you I like to see a man keep his head so well through a job like this.” “Well, what I came to ask you was--is there any good in my sitting up? Of course I’ll do it if anything can be done; but if not I may as well go to bed.” “Yes, I think you’d much better; I’ll call you if you’re wanted. I think you might come in and say a word or two to Bertha; it will encourage her.” Edward entered. Bertha was lying with staring, terrified eyes--eyes that seemed to have lately seen entirely new things, they shone glassily. Her face was whiter than ever, the blood had fled from her lips, and her cheeks were sunken: she looked as if she were dying. She greeted Edward with the faintest smile. “How are you, little woman?” he asked. His presence seemed to call her back to life, and a faint colour lit up her cheeks. “I’m all right,” she said, making an effort. “You mustn’t worry yourself, dear.” “Been having a bad time?” “No,” she said, bravely. “I’ve not really suffered much--there’s nothing for you to upset yourself about.” He went out, and she called Dr. Ramsay. “You haven’t told him what I’ve gone through, have you? I don’t want him to know.” “No, that’s all right. I’ve told him to go to bed.” “Oh, I’m glad. He can’t bear not to get his proper night’s rest.... How long d’you think it will last--already I feel as if I’d been tortured for ever, and it seems endless.” “Oh, it’ll soon be over now, I hope.” “I’m sure I’m going to die,” she whispered; “I feel that life is being gradually drawn out of me--I shouldn’t mind if it weren’t for Eddie. He’ll be so cut up.” “What nonsense!” said the nurse, “you all say you’re going to die.” Edward--dear, manly, calm, and pure-minded fellow as he was--went to bed quietly and soon was fast asleep. But his slumbers were somewhat troubled: generally he enjoyed the heavy dreamless sleep of the man who has no nerves and plenty of exercise. To-night, however, he dreamt. He dreamt not only that one cow was sick, but that all his cattle had fallen ill--the cows stood about with gloomy eyes and humpbacks, surly and dangerous, evidently with their livers totally deranged; the oxen were “blown,” and lay on their backs with legs kicking feebly in the air. “You must send them all to the butcher’s,” said the vet.; “there’s nothing to be done with them.” “Good Lord deliver us,” said Edward; “I shan’t get four bob a stone for them.” But his dream was disturbed by a knock at the door, and Edward awoke to find Dr. Ramsay shaking him. “Wake up, man--get up and dress quickly.” “What’s the matter?” cried Edward, jumping out of bed and seizing his clothes. “What’s the time?” “It’s half-past four.... I want you to go into Tercanbury for Dr. Spocref; Bertha is very bad.” “All right, I’ll bring him back with me.” Edward rapidly dressed himself.