"And yet nothing can save him. For two or three hours longer he will remain in much the same condition; thereafter a state of collapse must supervene, which will end in death--during that period he will become unconscious, and remain so to the last." "Of course, you must know," said Gilbert; "but from the strong, firm voice he speaks in, one would imagine he is not in this desperate case." "It is so, however. The principal mischief is internal, and does not admit of cure." Then the doctor hurried into the tent. What he had said had given fresh point to those words of Silwood's--"You can do nothing against a dead man. Personal vengeance upon me is impossible." The hand of Heaven, Gilbert reflected, already lay heavy on the man. Then he debated the offer made by Silwood. From the first he had inclined to accept it. What he had witnessed of the calamity had softened his heart; and to find Silwood cared for his wife and child in the way he evidently did, was a discovery of a side, entirely unsuspected, of this man's nature, which somehow appealed to Gilbert. These were sentimental influences, but became powerful reasons when added to the practical argument, the immediate recovery of the stolen money. Gilbert did not altogether believe that the money, or a large part of it, at any rate, could not be recovered without Silwood's help, but it might be a long and tedious business, involving, likely enough, considerable litigation, expense, and delay. Then there was the secret of Morris Thornton's death to be cleared up--a thing which Silwood alone could do. Gilbert quickly made up his mind that the best policy was to accept Silwood's offer. Rapidly outlining the main facts to Hankey, who listened with an ever-increasing wonder, Gilbert desired him to accompany him into the tent to act as witness to the statement of Silwood. "Well?" asked Silwood, as Gilbert bent over him. "I agree. You will hold nothing back?" "I am glad, for the sake of my wife and our child," said Silwood. "No, nothing shall be held back. But who is this man?" he asked, his eyes glancing at Hankey. "I asked him to come as a witness." "Very well; he'll be a witness to what you promise for my wife and child, as well as of what I tell you. So be it. What do you promise for them?" "What do you wish me to promise exactly?" "That you pay her three pounds a week for life, and that, should she die before the child, you will continue the payment to him for his life." "Yes, I promise that, contingent----" "Certainly, you mean contingent on your receiving the money? That is understood. Now, ask one of the doctors to come here?" One of the doctors was called up. "Doctor," said Silwood, "will you go and ask my wife, Mrs. James Russell, who is lying in the tent somewhere, to give you the key she has on the ribbon round her neck? Say that I sent you; give her my love, and tell her I am comfortable."