Meanwhile, Miss Clarice proceeded to Mr. Horran's bedroom. This was on the other side of the house, and was similar in many respects to the drawing-room. Here also were two French windows opening on to a terrace, and the apartment was large and lofty and spacious, and was furnished half as a bedroom and half as a sitting-room. This was because Mr. Horran lived, for the most part of his life, beneath its roof. Formerly, he had occupied a room on the first floor, where the other bedrooms were, but being unable, by reason of his mysterious disease, to mount the stairs, he had, within the last five years, transferred this room, which was formerly a library, into his sleeping chamber. It was handsomely furnished, and very comfortable, and had a large open fireplace, in which, summer and winter, blazed a grand fire. The walls were of a deep orange colour, as Mr. Horran thought such a hue was most restful to the eye, and on them hung many fine pictures, and also several spears and swords and Zulu shields and Matabele assegais, which various friends had brought as presents. In front of one window stood a rosewood escritoire, covered with papers, but the way to the other window was left open, as it acted also as a door, whence Mr. Horran could emerge, on fine days, to take the sun on the miniature terrace. For an invalid, everything was perfectly arranged, and Mr. Horran was lodged luxuriously. The old man himself was thin and wrinkled, but very straight and somewhat military in his looks, the resemblance being increased by a long, iron-grey moustache and closely clipped grey hair. He had left his bed and was sitting, clothed in a camel's hair dressing-gown, in a deep-seated leather armchair before the fire. When Clarice entered he was weeping, and she hastened towards him in alarm. "Dear Uncle Henry," she said, putting her arms round his neck, "why did you get up? It is most imprudent. Dr. Jerce and Dr. Wentworth both say you should remain in bed. I wonder Chalks," this was Horran's valet and faithful attendant, "allowed you." "I'm all right, my dear," said Mr. Horran, trying to recover his self-command, and patting Clarice's hand. "I'm only upset a little." "And no wonder, after that fit." "It is not the fit. That is all right now. I have been sleeping for about ten hours, and woke some time ago, feeling much better. Indeed, I felt so well, that I decided to rise, and take a stroll on the terrace, in the winter sunshine. Then I received a shock." "What kind of a shock?" "We won't say anything about it just now," said Horran, in a weak voice. "It would not interest you, and besides, I don't wish to talk of it. I have told no one, not even Chalks." "Told him what?" "Nothing, nothing," maundered on the old man, staring into the fire. "I feel ever so much better, my dear, only I can't help crying--some sort of emotion from the shock."