"Precisely, dear fellow! So here am I to lend you such assistance in the matter as a friend may. No reason to worry yourself, only in heaven's name be a little discreet, Perry--discretion's the word," "Discretion be damned!" "Precisely, old fellow! And now only mention how I may assist you in this unfortunate situation?" "By listening to me!" "Ears wide open, Perry." So I told him briefly of the storm, how, dazed and shaken after being thrown by Wildfire, I wandered into the wood and came upon the poor, distracted girl and brought her back with me to the "Soaring Lark." To all of which he listened, tap-tapping softly with his foot. "Ha--outside that accursed house!" he exclaimed, when I had done. "The place should be burned down!" And then in a different tone, glancing at me somewhat askance, "But then, Perry--egad--don't ye see this does not explain your abrupt departure from the reception and flight from London--now does it?" "Not in the least, Anthony. Nor can I offer any explanation." Here Anthony pursed his lips to a soundless whistle and began his soft tap-tapping again. "Diana was--deeply hurt," said he at last. "Every hour she is grieving for you--breaking her heart, Perry--as we sit here." "For God's sake, Anthony," I cried passionately, "keep your feet still!" "Eh? Oh, begad, forgive me, Perry! Consequently, she will be overjoyed to learn you are here safe. She will post down to you as fast as horses can bring her--" "Need she know, Anthony?" At this he turned with a kind of leap and glanced at me with a startled expression. "Lord, man--you are really ill!" he exclaimed. "Ill or no, Anthony, if you are truly my friend and value my friendship, promise me--swear to me she shall not come near me!" "Egad, Peregrine, you are damned ill!" "Promise--promise! Swear me this, Anthony!" cried I, starting up in bed to grasp at him with eager hands. And then came Mary, running, to clasp me in eager arms and lay me back among the pillows. "Mr. Anthony!" she cried. "Oh, Mr. Anthony, didn't I warn 'ee not to excite 'im then--oh, Mr. Anthony!" Lying thus helpless, I felt myself shaken as by an ague fit, saw Anthony staring down at me fearful-eyed ere he crept from the room, felt an arm beneath my head, a cup at my lips and, drinking thirstily, lay awhile staring up at the ceiling, where red wheels seemed to spin through the mist of a gossamer veil spangled with gold stars. It lay curling across my pillow close to my eyes, stirring gently as if endowed with life, a delicate, shimmering filament, never quite at rest, that glowed where the light caught it, and I watched it drowsily until, hearing a stealthy sound, I glanced up to behold my uncle George standing beside the bed. "Why, Peregrine," said he softly, his handsome face unwontedly grave, "how are you, dear lad?"