"I thoroughly believe it, sir," said the valet, "but it gives me great pleasure to hear it from you, who are such a friend of Mr. Gilbert's. I may say, sir--if I may tell you without offence--that I'm not really on duty to-night. But when I see how Mr. Gilbert was when he was dressing for dinner, I made up my mind to stay. James begged me to go, but I would not. James is a good lad, but he's no memory for detail. He'd have forgot the bi-carbonate of soda for Mr. Gilbert's heart-burn, or something like that--I think that's him, sir!" Ingworth and the valet hurried over the hall as the inner doors swung open and Lothian entered. His shirt-front was crumpled. His face was white and set, his eyes fixed and sombre. It was as though the master of the house had returned, when the poet entered. The under-porter hurried out of his box, Prince had the coat and opera hat whisked away in a moment. In a moment more, like some trick of the theatre and surrounded by satellites, Lothian was mounting the stairs towards his bedroom. They put him in an arm-chair--these eager servitors! The electric lights in the comfortable bed-room were all switched on. The servant who loved him, not for his generosity, but for himself, vied with the young gentleman who loved him for somewhat different reasons. Both of them had been dominated by this personality for so long, that there was no sorrow nor pity in their minds. The faithful man of the people who had served gentlemen so long that any other life would have been impossible to him, the boy of position, united in their efforts of resuscitation. The Master's mind must be called back! The Master's body must be succoured and provided for. The two were there to do it, and it seemed quite an ordinary and natural thing. "You take off his boots, Prince, and I'll manage his collar." "Yes, sir." "Managed it?" "A little difficulty with the left boot, sir. The instep is a trifle swelled." "Good heavens! I do hope he's not going to have another attack of gout!" "I hope not, sir. But you can't ever tell. It comes very sudden. Like a thief in the night, as you may say." "There! I've broken the stud, but that doesn't matter. His neck's free." "And his boots are off. There's some one knocking. It's his soup. Would you mind putting his bed-room slippers on, sir? I don't like the cold for his feet." Prince hurried to the door, whispered a word or two to whoever stood outside, and returned with a tray. "Another few minutes," said Prince, as he poured the brandy and measured the Worcester sauce into the silver-plated tureen; "another few minutes and he'll be beautiful! Mr. Gilbert responds to anything wonderful quick. I've had him worse than this at half past twelve, and at quarter to one he's been talking like an archdeacon. You persuade him, sir." "Here's your soup, Gilbert!"