“Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!” he laughed. “Outwitted! The keeper--the keeper caught! Ha, ha, ha! Why, she'll never get out--never! In for life, Lionel, my boy! Mad! Why, by this time she's a raving maniac! Ha, ha, ha! She swear against me! Who'd believe a madwoman, an idiot, a lunatic, a bedlamite, a maniac--a howling, frenzied, gibbering, ranting, raving, driveling, maundering, mooning maniac! And now for the boy next--the parricide! Ha, ha, ha! Arrest him! No. Shut him up here--both--with my friend Morton--both of them, mother and son, the two--ha, ha, ha!--witnesses! One maniac! two maniacs! and then I shall go mad with joy, and come here to live, and there shall be _three maniacs_! Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha-a-a-a-a-a-a!” Sir Lionel himself seemed mad now. On leaving the coach, however, he became calmer, and taking the first train that came up, resumed his journey. * * * * * CHAPTER XLVI. THE BEDSIDE OF DALTON. Frederick Dalton remained in his prostrate condition, with no apparent change either for the better or for the worse, and thus a month passed. One morning Dudleigh requested an interview with Edith. On entering the room he greeted her with his usual deep respect. [Illustration: “THEIR HANDS TOUCHED.”] “I hope you will excuse me for troubling you, Miss Dalton,” he said, “but I wish very much to ask your opinion about your father. He remains, as you know, unchanged, and this inn is not the place for him. The air is close, the place is noisy, and it is impossible for him to have that perfect quiet which he so greatly needs. Dudleigh Manor is too far away, but there is another place close by. I am aware, Miss Dalton, that Dalton Hall must be odious to you, and therefore I hesitate to ask you to take your father to that place. Yet he ought to go there, and at once. As for yourself, I hope that the new circumstances under which you will live there will make it less unpleasant; and, let me add, for my own part, it shall be my effort to see that you, who have been so deeply wronged, shall be righted--with all and before all. As to myself,” he continued, “I would retire, and relieve you of my presence, which can not be otherwise than painful, but there are two reasons why I ought to remain. The first is your father. You yourself are not able to take all the care of him, and there is no other who can share it except myself. Next to yourself, no one can be to him what I am, nor is there any one with whom I would be willing to leave him. He must not be left to a servant. He must be nursed by those who love him. And so I must stay with him wherever he is. In addition to this, however, my presence at Dalton Hall will effectually quell the vulgar clamor, and all the rumors that have been prevailing for the last few months will be silenced.”