Britt struggled to his feet, and groaned when his weight came on the tortured flesh. He looked about as if searching for something. “A basket!” he muttered. “I must find a basket.” He started forward and saw Vaniman in the hook of the Squire's arm. Whether increase of his mania or some sort of remorse prompted his utterance was not clear. “Take it back to Tophet with you! I didn't mean to keep it. I didn't know how to give it back. I took it so that they'd pen you up, out from under my feet. But even a thousand tons of rock can't pen you. I'm done trying. If this is what you're chasing me for, take it! Keep away from me.” He went through the crowd, beating his way with his fists. “Shall we hold him, Squire?” called a man. “Let him alone for just now! He can't go far in that shape. We'll attend to him after a little while.” The Squire pulled himself together with the air of one who saw that the situation needed a commander. He singled responsible men from the crowd and ordered them to take charge of the coin. “Come away with me,” he urged Vaniman. “This is no place for our talk.” When they walked out of the building they saw no sign of Britt. “We'll let him alone,” insisted the Squire. “There'll be no use in asking him questions till he's in his right mind. He'll probably get back his wits when he gets back his clothes.” “Squire Hexter, what's happening in this town to-night. What--” “All in good time, sonny! Let's get home where Xoa is.” There were lights in the Squire's house. In spite of the fog, Vaniman perceived that there was a gray hint of dawn in the heavens. More acutely was he wondering what this universal vigil in Egypt signified. But reaction had overtaken him. He was in the mood to accept commands of any sort. He walked on in silence. “You must stay out here till I break the thing to Xoa!” The young man clung to the trellis of the porch for a few moments until Xoa flung wide the door. Supported in her embrace, he staggered into the sitting room. “Cry, sonny! Cry a little,” the Squire adjured him. “Put your head on Xoa's knee and have it out. It will tide you over till your own mother can comfort you.” But wild desire for knowledge burned the sudden tears out of Vaniman's eyes. “Where is Vona? What is happening?” “We'll see to it mighty quick that Vona knows, sonny. The right word must get to her in the right way. Mother will know how. Mother, you'd better attend to it.” She agreed with that suggestion, but first she brought a basin and water and soft cloths and solicitously made more presentable the young man's face. While she ministered to him he told them what had been happening in his affairs. “You're alive. That's the main point. Now, Xoa,” urged the Squire, “go to Vona before some lunatic tells her something to scare her to death!” The good woman hastened away, her smile reassuring the lover.