“Don't flurry me; take me quietly, Doctor,” said the curate, with a piteous smile. “They 've given me such a burster over the deep ground that I 'm completely blown. Do you know,” added he, seriously, “they've cross-questioned me in a way that would imply that I am the cause of this sudden seizure?” “No, no; they couldn't mean that.” “There 's no excuse then for the things Miss Bramleigh said to me.” “Remember what an anxious moment it is; people don't measure their expressions when they are frightened. When they left him in the morning he was in his usual health and spirits, and they come back to find him very ill,--dangerously ill. That alone would serve to palliate any unusual show of eagerness. Tell me now, was he looking perfectly himself? was he in his ordinary spirits, when you met him?” “No; I thought him depressed, and at times irritable.” “I see; he was hasty and abrupt. He did not brook contradiction, perhaps?” “I never went that far. If I dissented once or twice, I did so mildly and even doubtingly.” “Which made him more exacting and more intolerant, you would say?” “Possibly it did. I remember he rated me rather sharply for not being contented with a very humble condition in life, though I assured him I felt no impatience at my lowly state, and was quite satisfied to wait till better should befall me. He called me a casuist for saying this, and hinted that all churchmen had the leaven of the Jesuit in them; but he got out of this after a while, and promised to write a letter in my behalf.” “And which he told me you would find sealed and addressed on this table here. Here it is.” “How kind of him to remember me through all his suffering!” “He said something about it being the only reparation he could make you; but his voice was not very clear or distinct, and I could n't be sure I caught his words correctly.” “Reparation! he owed me none.” “Well, well, it is possible I may have mistaken him. One thing is plain enough; you cannot give me any clew to this seizure beyond the guess that it may have been some tidings he received by post.” L'Estrange shook his head in silence, and after a moment said, “Is the attack serious?” “Highly so.” “And is his life in danger?” “A few hours will decide that, but it may be days before we shall know if his mind will recover. Craythorpe has been sent for from Dublin, and we shall have his opinion this evening. I have no hesitation in saying that mine is unfavorable.” “What a dreadful thing, and how fearfully sudden. I cannot conceive how he could have bethought him of the letter for me at such a moment.”