He still paced the floor of his room up and down, while he tried to argue himself out of the unreasonable hold which the circumstance had taken on his mind. “I wish I could forget it!” he exclaimed. Then walking to the window, and looking out mechanically, he said slowly to himself, as if weighing well his words,— “It is not possible; no, it is not possible that here I am going to find any clew. The man _was_ crazy, that is all.” He returned again, however, not the least relieved, to his track over the carpet, and, before he went down stairs, he had determined that he would “wait and see.” He would not, as he had previously intended, leave the place within a day or two. He could not go away until he had satisfied himself about the matter wholly, and in the mean time he would find out what he could in regard to the old man. He did not make any inquiries of the family, and the only information he could gain was simply what he had been already told. His sleep that night was strangely disturbed. Over and over in his troubled slumber a thin, shrunken figure stood with its trembling arm stretched out toward him. It was always before him, even when sometimes there flitted through his dreams the form of one whose face was fair as the morning, whose hair was yellow as the reaper’s wheat. He rose feeling little refreshed. The night, instead of lessening, had but strengthened the hold which the incident of the previous day had taken upon him, and against which he struggled without avail. The colonel’s prophecy did not prove incorrect when he said Simlin could not last long, for, just as the family were rising from the breakfast-table, a messenger arrived, saying the old man was lying insensible in his cabin. It seemed he did not make his appearance at the foundry at his usual time, and, after waiting an hour in vain, Hendricks, who suspected something might be wrong, sent one of the hands to the hut, where he was found in this condition. “Tell Hendricks I will see to him immediately,” the colonel said to the messenger, as he retired; then turning to young Safford, who stood with his hat in his hand, inquired, “Are you going out?” “I will go with you, if you have no objection. I may be of some service, and I am in need of exercise at any rate.” He hesitated as he spoke, endeavoring to cover the unusual interest which he took in the matter, and the excitement he felt that the news had brought upon him.