'Aye, go, lad,' assented Jim. 'I don't like the look of his face. Do you, Jane?' Husband and wife whispered together during Luke's absence. They knew from the latter into what a miserable state the old man had sunk, and Jane was vigorous in reprobation of the Bowers. Ackroyd returned, saying that the doctor would be at hand in a minute or two. 'Oughtn't you to go and tell Miss Trent?' Jane asked him, as all three stood helpless, waiting. 'I've thought of it, but I'd rather not, if it can be helped. Wait till the doctor comes.' The old man lay quite still, breathing heavily. His eyes were yet open, but had fixed themselves in one direction. The doctor came. He directed that the sufferer should at once be put into a warm bed. 'My room, then,' said Luke. 'Come and help, Jim.' The directions were soon carried out, and the doctor went off, asking someone to follow for medicine. The wound proved to be of no moment; graver causes must have led to the state of coma in which the old man lay. When Luke returned from the doctor's, he reported that the latter had spoken rather seriously. 'I must go and see Lydia,' he said to his sister. 'You don't mind this bother, Jane, eh? You'll sit by him?' 'Of course I will. Go and fetch her; it's my belief he hasn't very long to live.' It seemed to Ackroyd a long time since he had knocked at the door in Walnut Tree Walk; very much had come about since then. Impatient, he had to repeat his knock before any one came. Then Mr. Jarmey appeared. No, he knew Miss Trent was not in; she had gone out with his wife half an hour ago, but it was getting late, and they were sure to be soon back. 'Is Mr. Grail in?' 'I think so. I'll just knock and see.' Gilbert was at home, and Ackroyd went into the parlour. The two were very friendly whenever they met, but that was seldom; Grail was surprised at the visit. He was sitting with his mother; they seemed to have been talking, for no book lay on the table. Luke explained why he had come to the house. 'Will you let me sit here till she comes in, Grail?' A chair was at once brought forward, with quiet readiness. One chair there was in the room which no one ever used, though at evening it was always put in a particular position, between the table and the fireplace. Gilbert kept his hand on the back of it as he talked. Ackroyd railed against the Bowers. Gilbert did not seem able to express very strong feeling, even when he had heard all that the other knew and suspected; his brows darkened, however, and he was anxious on Lydia's account. An oppressive silence had fallen upon the three, when at length they heard the front-door open. 'Would you like mother to go upstairs to her and tell her?' Gilbert asked. 'I should. It would be kind of you, Mrs. Grail. But only just speak as if it was an accident; I wouldn't say anything else.'