It was Saxa Lydon who said those words, for the old man's face became suddenly convulsed; his head dropped back, and, as Neil sank on one knee and passed his arm beneath the neck, it turned sidewise, with the eyes seeming to gaze reproachfully into his, but there was neither sight nor understanding then. The grey dawn was creeping into the room when Ralph Elthorne recovered consciousness, and looked up questioningly in his son's face. But he did not speak for a time, only let his eyes wander about the room, and they saw that he appeared to be noting who were present, his gaze resting long on both his sons, his daughter, sister, and the nurse. At last he spoke. "Isabel." She ran to his side, and sank upon her knees. "The girls?" he said feebly. "Saxa--Dana?" "They went home, papa, dear, about two," whispered Isabel; "but don't try to talk, now. Look at me, and I'll try to understand what you mean." He took no notice of her prayer, but closed his eyes, and lay apparently thinking, his next words indicating that he recalled what had taken place. "Yes," he said gently; "they could not stay here. Tell Alison and your aunt to go and then you go too." Neil advanced just then to watch his father narrowly, but the old man made no sign of anger. He lay quite calm and still, as if utterly exhausted, but his son noted that he watched until Aunt Anne and Alison had gone, when he unclosed his eyes fully, and whispered to Isabel to leave. "May I not stay, papa? I may be wanted." "No. You have been here all night. Kiss me and go--" Isabel bent down weeping, pressed her lips on her father's brow, and then left the room, with Nurse Elisia and Neil both watching patiently as the stricken man's eyes remained fast shut. But he was quite conscious, for upon Neil approaching the couch after a time, his lips parted. "I am not asleep," he said, gently, "only very weak. You need not both stay." Neil looked at his father wonderingly, and with something of dread, the old man seemed so passionless and strange. Just then the invalid opened his eyes and gazed full at his son. "I know what I am saying," he said quietly. "I recollect all that has passed, but I am too weak and helpless to speak much. Nurse!" She went to his side. "Let him stay with me. You can go for an hour or two. I am not going to die--yet." She looked at him keenly, and then at Neil, as if to question him, but she did not speak. "The danger is past," he said quietly. "You can safely go for a time." "Then set me free, sir," she cried, quickly, her woman's nature asserting itself now above the habit of the passionless trained nurse. "If there were danger, I would stay, but you say it is past; and it is impossible for me to stay here after what has happened." "There is no reason now, madam," said Neil coldly. "I am doctor, and you are the nurse. You need not fear that I shall speak again. You cannot leave my father yet."