As if conscious of some unexpected development, all stood away from it, in silence. Diana and the doctor drew near. Their eyes met across the stretcher. "It is David," said Diana. "He has come back to me. Dear God, he has come back to me!" Her grey eyes widened. She gazed at the doctor, in startled unseeing anguish. "Just help me a moment, Mrs. Rivers, will you?" said Sir Deryck's quiet, steady voice. "You and I will place him on the bed; and then, with Dr. Walters's help, we can soon see what to do next. Put your hands so.... That is right. Now, lift carefully. Do not shake him." Together they lifted David's wasted form, and laid it gently on the bed. "Go and open the window," whispered Sir Deryck to Diana. "Stand there a moment or two; then close it again. Do as I tell you, my dear girl. Do it, _for David's sake_." Mechanically, Diana obeyed. She knew that if she wished to keep control over herself, she must not look just yet on that dear dying face; she must not see the thin travel-stained figure. She stood at the open window, and the breath of night air seemed to restore her powers of thought and action. She steadied herself against the window frame, and lifted her eyes. Above the forest of chimney stacks, shone one brilliant star. Her Boy was going quickly--beyond the stars. But he had come back to her first. Suddenly she understood why he had stopped the correspondence. He was on the eve of his brave struggle to reach home. And why he had begged her to remain in England--oh, God, of course! Not because he did not want her, but because he himself was coming home. Oh, David, David! She turned back into the room. Skilful hands were undressing David. Something lay on the floor. Mechanically Diana stooped and picked it up. It was his little short black jacket; the rather threadbare "old friend." Diana gave one loud sudden cry, and put her hand to her throat. Sir Deryck stepped quickly between her and the bed; then led her firmly to the door. "Go to your room," he said. "It is so far better that you should not be here just now. Everything possible shall be done. You know you can confidently leave him to us. David himself would wish you to leave him to us. Sit down and face the situation calmly. He may regain consciousness, and if he does, you must be ready, and you must have yourself well in hand." The doctor put her gently out, through the half-open door. Diana turned, hesitating. "You would call me--if?" "Yes," said the doctor; "I will call you--then." Diana still held David's jacket. She slipped her hand into the breast-pocket, and drew out a sealed envelope. "Sir Deryck," she said, "this is a letter from David to me, which I was to receive after his death. Do you think I may read it now?"