"No!" said a strong voice from the bed, and there they saw Horran, sitting up, apparently wide awake. The sudden change was one quite characteristic of his mysterious disease. "No," repeated the sick man, with an anxious glance at Jerce, "you and I must have a talk, Daniel. Things must be settled between us." "Yes, yes," said Jerce, good-naturedly; then sank his voice to address Clarice. "He apparently wants to talk about his will. Leave me alone with him. Take Chalks with you." Clarice kissed her guardian, but he took no notice of her, as his eyes were steadily fixed on the doctor's strong, calm face. "Things must be settled between us," repeated Horran, as Clarice and Chalks departed. CHAPTER VIII WHAT HAPPENED NEXT "Well?" asked Anthony, when Clarice returned to the drawing-room, "is Mr. Horran any better?" "I think so. He is awake and his voice is stronger, but whether the improvement will last, I can't say." "What does the doctor say?" "Nothing. He is very perplexed over this disease, and does not know what is the matter." "That doesn't say much for Jerce's reputation," said Ackworth. "Dr. Jerce is only a man, after all," answered Clarice, earnestly, "and Uncle Henry's disease is so very mysterious, that neither he nor Dr. Wentworth can say anything explicit." Ackworth twisted his hands behind his back and swayed to and fro on his toe-tips. "I wonder if Mr. Horran is really ill, after all." Clarice, with her handkerchief to her mouth, looked at him suddenly and inquiringly. "What do you mean?" "From what I have seen of Mr. Horran," said Ackworth, quietly, "he does not appear to be ill. His colour is good, he eats well, and sleeps a lot. He has not lost flesh, and his eyes are steady. Certainly, he appears to become giddy at times, but that might be biliousness from his sedentary life. Also he gets cross and fractious--that, again, might be liver. He lives very unhealthily, stewing in that room with a fire, and such an existence is enough to produce all the symptoms he suffers from, without any real physical cause." "Well?" questioned Clarice, not knowing what this speech meant. "You won't be offended?" asked Ackworth in his turn, and uneasily. "With what?" "I am about to say something about the Purple Fern." "Yes?" she stared at him, amazed. Ackworth still continued to sway to and fro, and gazed at the ground as he replied, "Mr. Horran may take exercise at night." "Go on. I don't understand." "His illness may be a feint." "For what?" "For business connected with the Purple Fern." "Anthony!" Clarice recoiled, as though he had struck her. "Oh, I know it sounds ridiculous," said Ackworth, hurriedly, "and perhaps it may prove to be ridiculous. All the same, the fact of that man searching Jerce on the terrace, and this mysterious illness, and the envelope containing the stamped fern, and the presence of the gold box, which Jerce now has--well, you see--I don't exactly know how to put it."