"We must take Bernard up to the turret-room," said Miss Berengaria, promptly. "He'll be all right to-night and then we can send for Payne to-morrow. Help me with him, Alice." "But, aunt, the servants--" "They will hold their tongues. I'll see to that." "Bless you," murmured the half stupefied man. "I can't thank you for--Oh! if you only knew all! I want to tell you something." "Never mind just now," said the old lady, sharply. "Try and get up the stairs supported by Alice and myself. Then we'll put you to bed and give you something to eat." "Will I be safe?" asked the man, looking round anxiously. "Quite safe. Do you think I would let you be taken, Bernard?" said Alice, although her soul sickened in her at the deception. "I--trust--you," said Michael, with a strange look at her. "I am ill and dirty, and--and--but you know I am Bernard," he burst out in a pitiful kind of way. "Yes, of course you are. Anyone can see that," said Miss Berengaria, as Alice didn't answer. "Help him up, Alice." The two dragged the man up the stairs painfully, he striving his best to make his weight light. Miss Berengaria approved of this. "He's got good stuff in him," she said, when they led him into the small room, which took up the whole of the second floor of the turret. "He always had," said Alice, warmly, and for the sake of the comedy. But Miss Berengaria frowned. She applied what she said to Michael. Then Miss Berengaria sent Alice downstairs to heat some wine, and made Michael go to bed. He was as weak as a child, and simply let her do what she liked. With some difficulty she managed to put him between the sheets, and then washed his face and hands. Finally, on Alice returning with the wine and some bread, she fed him with sops of the latter dipped into the former. After this, as Michael displayed symptoms of drowsiness, she prepared to leave him to a sound sleep. "And Payne shall see you to-morrow." "But I'll be safe--safe," said the sick man, half starting up. "Of course. Lie down and sleep." Michael strove to say something, then sank back on his pillows. The two hurried out of the room and down the stairs feeling like conspirators. Not until they were safe in the drawing-room with the door closed did they venture to speak, and then only did so in whispers. Alice was the first to make a remark. "If I hadn't seen Bernard this very day, I should have been deceived, aunt. Did you ever see so wonderful a likeness?" "Never," admitted Miss Berengaria. "But how the deuce"--she was always a lady given to strong expressions--"does the man expect to pass himself off to you as Bernard? There's lots of things Bernard has said about which he must know nothing." "I can't understand it myself. Perhaps he came to tell the truth."