The instruction--it amounted to that--came from the man in the bed. It seemed that he had not only known that the women were in the house before I had had any intimation of their presence, and that the knowledge had prompted him to make his remark, but it also appeared that he knew what was written on that card. Was the fellow possessed of the occult powers of which we read in fairy-books? While the others eyed me askance, inquiring his meaning, I eyed him. As a matter of fact I welcomed neither Edith nor Violet. I had far rather they both of them had kept away. The business on hand was one with which I desired that they should have no sort of connection. It was bad enough that I should be entering, with my eyes wide open, into such a sea of falsehood. That they should soil even the hem of their skirts by standing, unwittingly, upon the edge was a notion I did not fancy. They were stainless: above reproach. It was my business to keep them so. It did not matter so much for me. Yet I did not see how I could prevent them coming if they chose to come, even into that atmosphere of foul fraud and lying; especially if my friend, the dying man, desired their presence. The motive which had brought Edith I could understand. After all, Twickenham had been the playmate of her childish days. And he had wooed and won her dearest friend, who still waited, in full confidence, his coming. But why Violet? The man had not even a pseudo-sentimental attraction for her. I turned to the waiter. 'Tell the ladies I will be with them directly.' The dying man was not to be balked. He evinced a degree of vigour which was altogether beyond anything he had previously shown. 'Let them come! Let them come!' he repeated. He stretched out his hand, from which the pen dropped out unused, in such a condition of tremulous agitation that Hancock promptly laid him back upon the pillow. 'Gently! Gently! Don't excite yourself, my lord; be calm! What does he mean?' he asked me. I perforce explained. 'Miss Desmond is below, and wishes to know if she may come up.' 'Let her come!' gasped the invalid. 'Better humour him,' murmured Hancock. 'I will go down and speak to her.' But when I prepared to go the patient shook his head at me in a frenzy of excitement; struggling all the while for breath in a fashion which it was not agreeable to witness. Hancock strove to soothe him. 'Gently, my lord, gently.' 'He's--he's not--to--go. Let them--let them--come.' 'It appears, Mr. Howarth, that his lordship would like Miss Desmond to come without your going to fetch her. Can you not send a message through the waiter?' He added, _sotto voce_, 'Better do as he wishes; she'll get no harm.' I had my doubts; but I directed the waiter as Hancock desired. As soon as he was gone Foster returned to the charge. 'Now, if your lordship will be pleased to attach your signature.' The sick man would have none of him. He merely continued to mumble: 'Let them--come! Let them--come!'