occipital concussion. Within an hour, in spite of all we could do, symptoms of lung congestion supervened. When it became manifest that no human skill could save, I wrote a note to Miss Ottley and sent Lord Bill to London to escort her to her lover's bedside. After that there was nothing to do but wait. Weldon was deep in a state of coma. I sat down beside him and watched his poor, wan face. Every few minutes I administered a stimulant, yet each time asked myself what use? And were it not better to let him cross the bar in painless sleep than try to bring him back for a few moments to the agony of suffering and hopeless separation? Yet I was plagued with the most hateful doubts and ideas, and so, beyond expression miserable that when two hours had gone and I marked his pulse failing visibly with the fleeting minutes, I did that at length which, perhaps, I should have postponed till Miss Ottley's arrival. But then, it might have been too late. Who knows? He opened his eyes and looked at me. I could hardly see for sudden womanish tears. "Give me your hand!" he whispered. I did so, and he pressed within it a hard, bulbous object. "Put in--in your pocket. Keep it safe!" he gasped. "It will--ah." I obeyed him without glancing at what he had given me. Then I got up and rang the bell. A great change had come over him. The surgeon responded to my call. "It is the end!" he said. Weldon broke into a fit of coughing and beat the bedclothes with his hands. We bent over him, seeking to help and soothe him. The paroxysm passed and for a moment he seemed to sleep. Soon, however, he gave a strong shudder and opened his eyes again. "Pinsent--you will avenge me--you have the clue," he said. It was but a breath, but I heard. Yet I cannot say I comprehended. Indeed, I thought he wandered. But I answered softly: "Trust me, lad!" And at that he smiled and lay still, gazing up at me with eyes of deep affection. "I have sent for her," I whispered. "Yes," he sighed. "I know; but she will be too late. Tell her--not to fret!" and at the last word the light faded from his eyes and he was dead. Long afterwards Miss Ottley came into the room. She was pale, but invincibly composed. I gave her his message and left her alone with the dead. The owner of the house, Lord Bill and the surgeon led me out into the garden. They spoke to me in decorous hushed voices for a while, then let me be. I walked up and down the pathway till break of day, and what I thought about I cannot tell. I remember being closely questioned by a policeman. Then Miss Ottley took my arm and we walked to the station. I thought it my place to be kind to her, yet she was kind to me.