He had never seen her before. He studied the kind, homely face, the neat black gown, the silk apron, the cairngorm brooch. Then from the depths of the well came up an intuition and, almost before he knew it, he had said: “Hullo, Mary.” The ruddy face paled. The hand holding the tray shook. “Yes, Sir Nigel. We thought you might have wakened, Sir Nigel. I have made bold to bring you broth.” Broth? Yes, of course. Broth and Mary would go together. He sat up, took it from her hand, and supped it hungrily. She watched him, with eyes which held a strange mingling of love, fear, and wonder. The love, a life-long fidelity. The fear came with the remembrance of a coffin, beside which she had stood; of a grave in the churchyard on the hill side. The wonder was born of a mystery, unexplained, unaccountable, but accepted with the simple faith of a mind ruled by the heart. “How did I get here, Mary?” “Thomas will tell you, Sir Nigel.” “You tell me. I like hearing your dear old voice.” “Thomas found you by the rocks, Sir Nigel. He fetched the foresters, and they brought you up on a hurdle.” “How did Thomas know I had been swimming?” “Her ladyship gave the alarm.” “Ah! Who put me to bed?” “Thomas and the doctor.” “The doctor? What doctor.” “They fetched the doctor, Sir Nigel.” “I see. Thank you, Mary; the broth was very good. Now, where are my clothes? I want to get up.” “I will send Thomas, Sir Nigel.” Left alone, he pondered. What had they told this doctor? Would he also rise, a familiar figure, from the well of sub-conscious memory? The door opened again. The old butler entered, closing it carefully behind him. “Thomas, come here. I have been talking to Mary.” “So I hear, Sir Nigel.” “She tells me the foresters carried me up from the shore. Do they know me, Thomas?” “No, Sir Nigel. They are young men, sons of Fergusson and Graem.” “I see. How about this doctor?” “He has been her ladyship’s medical attendant for a matter of twenty-five years, Sir Nigel.” “Twenty-five years? Ah! What did you say to him? How did you explain my presence here?” “We told him you were an old friend of her ladyship’s whom she had met abroad.” “Abroad?” He dived into the well. “Ah, yes! That was true, wasn’t it? Where——” “Italy, Sir Nigel.” “Yes; Florence. Good Lord! What else did you tell the doctor?” “That you dined here last evening, and spent the night; went for an early swim this morning, and got caught by the current.” “Good. Who else—er—remembers, beside you and Mary?” “No one, Sir Nigel. We alone are left, of the old staff.” “Thomas, bring my clothes. I must get up.” “See the doctor first, Sir Nigel.” “No need. I am all right. There is but one person I want to see. Where is she, Thomas?” “Her ladyship is in her room, Sir Nigel.” The old man’s face worked. “The doctor is with her ladyship.” “The doctor? What’s up, Thomas? Is anything wrong?”