she were to die, and
he to lose the true-hearted woman who stood so nobly by him in his
trouble?

"Cheer up," said Chinston, patting him on the shoulder; "while there's
life there's hope, and whatever human aid can do to save her will be
done."

Brian grasped the doctor's hand in silence, his heart being too full to
speak.

"How did Frettlby die?" asked Calton.

"Heart disease," said Chinston. "His heart was very much affected, as I
discovered a week or so ago. It appears he was walking in his sleep,
and entering the drawing-room, he alarmed Miss Frettlby, who screamed,
and must have touched him. He awoke suddenly, and the natural
consequences followed--he dropped down dead."

"What alarmed Miss Frettlby?" asked Brian, in a low voice, covering his
face with his hand.

"The sight of her father walking in his sleep, I suppose," said
Chinston, buttoning his glove; "and the shock of his death which took
place indirectly through her, accounts for the brain fever."

"Madge Frettlby is not the woman to scream and waken a somnambulist,"
said Calton, decidedly, "knowing as she did the danger. There must be
some other reason."

"This young woman will tell you all about it," said Chinston, nodding
towards Sal, who entered the room at this moment. "She was present, and
since then has managed things admirably; and now I must go," he said,
shaking hands with Calton and Fitzgerald. "Keep up your heart, my boy;
I'll pull her through yet."

After the doctor had gone, Calton turned sharply to Sal Rawlins, who
stood waiting to be addressed.

"Well," he said briskly, "can you tell us what startled Miss Frettlby?"

"I can, sir," she answered quietly. "I was in the drawing-room when Mr.
Frettlby died--but--we had better go up to the study."

"Why?" asked Calton, in surprise, as he and Fitzgerald followed her up
stairs.

"Because, sir," she said, when they had entered the study and she had
locked the door, "I don't want any one but yourselves to know what I
tell you."

"More mystery," muttered Calton, as he glanced at Brian, and took his
seat at the escritoire.

"Mr. Frettlby went to bed early last night," said Sal, calmly, "and
Miss Madge and I were talking together in the drawing-room, when he
entered, walking in his sleep, and carrying some papers--"

Both Calton and Fitzgerald started, and the latter grew pale.

"He came down the room, and spread out a paper on the table where the
lamp was. Miss Madge bent forward