In the hours of agony that he had passed through, the sick man's features had become shrunken, causing his eyes to stare forth preternaturally large and restless; his hair had been cropped close, to allow of the dressing of a wound over the temple, and the tight white bandages lent a strange and unfamiliar appearance to his finely shaped head. With a sick sensation, Milbanke went slowly forward. The patient made no attempt to move as he drew near the bed, but his feverishly bright glance seemed to devour his face. "Here he is, father!" Clodagh exclaimed softly and eagerly. "Here's Mr. Milbanke! Now, aren't you happy? He's not able to move," she explained, turning to the guest. "It gives him terrible agony to stir." Milbanke had reached the bed; and with a sensation of awkwardness and impotence impossible to describe, he stood looking down upon Asshlin. "My poor Denis!" he said. "My poor, poor friend! This is a bad business; I had no idea----" Then he paused confusedly, remembering Clodagh's warning. "But we'll see you laughing at it all before we're much older," he added, in awkward haste to make amends. A gleam of something like irony crossed Asshlin's watchful eyes. "I'm done for this time, James!" he said feebly. "I suppose I've had my day, and, like every other dog, must answer to the whistle. I don't complain! I'm getting more than my deserts in seeing you again. You're as welcome as the flowers in----" His voice failed. "I know--I know! Don't trouble! Don't try to speak!" Milbanke bent over him anxiously. But Asshlin glanced back. "Ah, but that's what I must do, James!" he said sharply. "That's what I want you for. I have something that must be said." Milbanke turned to Clodagh. "Is it right of him to excite himself?" he asked in distress. "If it's anything that you reproach yourself with, Denis----" But Asshlin interrupted with a weak echo of his old intolerance. "Send Clo away!" he said. "There's something I want to say." Again Milbanke looked helplessly at Clodagh, but her eyes were fixed passionately on her father's face. "He'll excite himself more if we cross him," she said hesitatingly. "I think I'd better go." Still Milbanke hesitated. "But the doctor?" he hazarded. "If the doctor insists on quiet----" She glanced at him quickly, her clear eyes brimming. "Oh, I don't know!" she exclaimed; "I can't cross him--I can't cross him! He's wanted you so badly." She turned quickly towards the bed. "Father," she said tenderly, "won't you promise not to talk much? Won't you promise to take care?" For answer, Asshlin looked up, meeting her glance. "I'll promise, child--I'll promise. Run away now--and God bless you!" He added the expressive native phrase in a suddenly lowered voice. Clodagh bent quickly and kissed his hot, drawn face with passionate affection; then, as if fearing to trust herself, she turned hastily and passed out of the room. Instantly the two men were alone, Asshlin turned to his guest.