aid Garthorne, in a tone so
gentle and kindly that Ernshaw started at it. "Vane has been taken ill,
too, and we are putting him to bed. I'm just going for a doctor."

Then he laid Sir Arthur's head back on the cushion and said, rising to
his feet:

"Now, Mr. Ernshaw, I think that's about all I can do for the present. If
you will tell me where I can find Maxwell's doctor I'll go and send him,
and then I'll go on and tell Sir Godfrey, not what has really taken
place, but that something has happened which may prevent Maxwell leaving
his rooms to-day."

Ernshaw scribbled the name and address of the doctor on the back of an
envelope and gave it to Garthorne, saying, rather hesitatingly:

"There it is, Mr. Garthorne. I'm afraid I've been too hasty in what I
said to you, and I must confess that you've taken it as very few men
would have done. But if you only knew all that Vane has been to me
during the last two years, and how awful this seems to me----"

"My dear sir, don't say any more about it," Garthorne interrupted
good-humouredly. "I know enough of poor Vane's story to see exactly what
you mean. We'll consider it all unsaid, and now I must be off."

CHAPTER IX.

Ernshaw's first care, after Garthorne had left the room, was to see to
the comfort of Sir Arthur, who had now quite recovered consciousness,
but was still feeling faint and ill. He told him as much of the truth
about Vane as he knew, and while he was doing so, Jepson, the scout,
came in from the bedroom, and said with an air of deferential
confidence:

"If you please, sir, I don't think there'll be any need for a doctor to
Mr. Maxwell. He's come round a bit, and I think I know what his
complaint is. Being excited, as he might well be on a morning like this,
he's taken a drop too much on an empty stomach, and that led him to
drink brandy and soda with his breakfast instead of sending for some
more coffee. I've often seen this sort of thing before, sir, you see,
and I've found the physic that will cure him on the mantelpiece. It's
this."

He held up a little stoppered bottle full of strong ammonia, which Vane
had got for cleaning up the bindings of some old books.

"Twenty drops of this," he went on, "in a wine-glassful of water, and
he'll be as sober as ever he was in half an hour. Then I'll make him
some strong coffee, and he'll be as right as a trivet. Only you mustn't
let him take any more drink afterwards, or he'll just bring his boots
up.