Yes, before Towler could arrive with the candle, he had fathomed the mystery. Three or four full bottles, and a large number of empties, were stowed away in this dusty receptacle. He drew one of the full bottles out into the light. 'Hennessy's Fine Old Cognac,' said the label. This had been the secret source of fever and delirium--here had lurked the evil which had made all remedial measures vain. Mr. Fosbroke was announced while John Jardine was washing the dust and the stains of rusty iron from his hands. Brian was in too low a condition to be rude to the country practitioner, much as he had protested against his interference. He suffered the apothecary to sit by his bed and feel his pulse, without a word of remonstrance. 'How do you find him?' asked Mr. Jardine, when Mr. Fosbroke had left the bedside. 'Very bad; pulse small and thready--a hundred and forty in the minute; violent throbbing in the temporal and carotid arteries; profuse perspiration--all bad signs. What medicines has he been taking?' He was shown the prescriptions. 'Hum--hum--digitalis--bromide of potassium. I should like to inject chloral; but as the case is in Dr. Mallison's hands--' 'If you think there is danger I will telegraph for Mallison.' 'There is always danger in this stage of the malady, especially in the case of a patient of Mr. Wendover's age. The season, too, is unfavourable--the mortality in this complaint is nearly double in summer. If we can get him into a sound sleep of some hours he may wake with a decided turn for the better--the delirium subjugated; but in his low state, even sleep may be fatal--there is so little vital power. Yes, I should certainly telegraph for Dr. Mallison; and in the meantime I'll try what can be done with chloral.' 'You must do the utmost you can. Mrs. Wendover has implicit faith in you.' 'I'll drive back and get the chloral.' When the apothecary was gone, Mr. Jardine's first act was to telegraph to the London physician, his next, to put the unused bottles of cognac under lock and key, and, with Towler's help, to clear away the empty bottles without the knowledge of the servants. No doubt every member of the household knew the nature of Mr. Wendover's illness; but it was well to spare him the exposure of these degrading details. CHAPTER XXVIII. AN ENGLISHMAN'S HOUSE IS HIS CASTLE.