ever--yet he's headed down-hill. About next week he's going to
start to coast, unless Nan Brent shows up to take him by the hand and
lead him back up-hill. I believe she could do it--if she would."

"I believe she could, also," the doctor agreed. "Perhaps you've
noticed that, although his family have listened to him rave about her,
they have never given the slightest indication that they know what he
is raving about. The girl's tabu, apparently."

"The Laird appears to be a human being. Have you spoken to him about
this--Nan girl?"

"I tried to--once. He looked at me--and I didn't try any more. The
fact is," the doctor added, lowering his voice, "I have a notion that
old Hector, through Daney, gave the girl money to leave the country."

"If he knew what an important personage she is at this minute, he'd
give her more money to come back--if only just long enough to save his
son. Have you spoken to Mr. Daney?"

"No; but I think I had better. He has a great deal of influence with
The Laird, and since I have no doubt they were in this conspiracy
together, Daney may venture to discuss with the old man the
advisability of bringing the girl back to Port Agnew."

"If she doesn't appear on the scene within ten days--"

"I agree with you. Guess I'll look up Mr. Daney."

He did. Daney was at his desk in the mill office when the doctor
entered and, without the least circumlocution, apprised him of the
desperate state to which Donald was reduced.

"I tell you, Mr. Daney," he declared, and pounded Daney's desk to
emphasize his statement, "everything that medical science can do for
that boy has been done, but he's slipping out from under us. Our last
hope lies in Nan Brent. If she can be induced to come to his bedside,
hold his hand, and call him pet names when he's rational, he'll buck
up and win out. There are no dangerous physical complications to
combat now. They are entirely mental."

While the physician was speaking, Andrew Daney's face had gradually
been taking on the general color-tones of a ripe old Edam cheese. His
chin slowly sagged on his breast; his lips parted in horror and
amazement until, finally, his mouth hung open slackly, foolishly;
presently, two enormous tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and
cascaded slowly across his cheeks into his whiskers. He gripped the
arms of his chair.

"O God, forgive me!" he moaned. "The Laird doesn't know where she is,
and neither do I. I induced her to go away, a