He was a short spare man, suave but resolute. He found her calm, for she had worn herself out with her ravings and convulsions. He drew to the bedside, held her wrist, felt her forehead. "She is in a bad way, Sir," he said. "The fever rages. I will write a prescription, and perhaps you will allow one of your servants to run with it to the chemist at Cliffegate." Pen and ink were produced and the servant despatched. He looked at Geraldine curiously for some time and then came round to me. "There is an expression on the lady's face, Sir, which must be habitual"---- "Her reason is impaired," I replied. He bowed his head. "The fever that is on her, Sir, arises, I should say, from a severe chill. I judge that her constitution cannot be strong, and she should have been restrained from exposing herself to the cold." "She has a habit of walking in her sleep. Last night she left her bed, and traversed the whole length of the grounds on her bare feet and habited only in her nightgown. I feared this result, yet I did not dare awaken her, having been cautioned against doing so. I could only hope that the same Providence that guided her steps would preserve her from any ill effects." He drew to the bed and examined her face carefully. She lay so still that she looked like a corpse. Her eyes were half closed, and the whites showing through the lids gave her the ghastly aspect of death. "You look care-worn and anxious, Sir," he said, turning to me; "your vigil has been a long and trying one. Can I induce you to lie down for a little time? Even an hour's sleep would benefit you, and enable you better to meet the demands which your wife's illness may yet make on you." "What is your opinion of her case?" I asked anxiously. "I can form no opinion as yet. I shall be better able to do so when she awakens from this stupor. Meanwhile Mrs. Williams" (he evidently knew her) "and I can keep watch." "I really would try to get a little rest, Sir," said Mrs. Williams. "You look to need it very badly. It is well to keep up your strength, Sir; and I will promise to call you if it should be necessary." There was wisdom in their advice; I did indeed require sleep. It was not so much my body as my mind that was exhausted. I said I would lie down in the adjoining room, and begged them to arouse me should the slightest alteration appear in her symptoms. I was chilly. The mornings were cold now, and want of sleep had robbed me of my natural warmth. I rolled myself in a rug, laid myself on the bed, and in a few minutes fell fast asleep. I was awakened from a deep slumber by some one pulling my arm. The sunshine poured through the blindless windows and filled the room with light. My eyes, heavy with sleep, were dazzled by the glare; afterwards I saw Mrs. Williams. I jumped up at once.