rm anything so definite, after what you have
gone through with the rest of us. Let me, in my turn, urge you to go
to your rest. These things have told upon you. You are only flesh and
blood, not iron, as you fancy. The men are all right so far."

"I'll get something to eat and drink," said Mannering, "and leave you in
peace for a while."

"Do. You will find all you need in the dining-room. I directed Masters
to leave ample there, in case the detectives might want food."

"Shall I bring you something--a whisky, and a biscuit?"

"No, no. I need nothing."

The doctor went his way, and passed an hour with meat and drink. Then he
felt an overpowering desire to sleep, but resisted it, lighted his pipe
again, and, resumed his march in the hall. He listened presently at the
library door, and was gratified to hear a gentle but steady snore. The
sound pleased Mannering well.

He padded about once more, resolved to keep awake until the vigil was
ended. Then he would go to bed and sleep. It was now past three o'clock
on a still, winter night--a lull and interval between yesterday's storm
and rough weather yet to come. The doctor went out of doors for a time
and tramped the terrace. A waning moon had risen, and the night was mild
and cloudy.

Bright light shot out like fans into the murk from the east and south
windows of the Grey Room. Returning to the house, the watcher listened
at the foot of the staircase, and heard the mumble of men's voices and
the sound of feet. They were changing the guard, and the detective in
the corridor gave up his place to one from inside. All was well so far.

Then Mannering went to the billiard-room, lolled on the settee for
a time, and drowsed through another hour. For a few minutes he lost
consciousness, started up to blame his weakness, and looked at his
watch. But he had only slumbered for five minutes.

At six o'clock he told himself that it was morning, and went in again to
Sir Walter. The old man had wakened, and was sitting in quiet reflection
until daylight should outline the great window above the dead.

"The night has been one of peace," he declared. "The spirit of poor May
seemed near me, and I felt, too, as though his son were not far off,
either. Is all well with the watchers?"

"I leave you to inquire, but don't go too near them. Night fades over
the woods, so the day can be said to have begun."

"Doubtless the household will be stirring. I shall go and inquire, if
they wi