s arrest?"

She shook her head, and again lifted her mouth to his ear.

"I have heard nothing; tell me all."

"It seems that there was an old feud between Heath and Burrill," began
the doctor, beginning to feel that somehow he had made a blunder. "They
have hunted up some pretty strong evidence against Heath, and the
coroner's jury brought in a verdict against him. You know the body was
found in an old cellar, close by Heath's cottage."

At this moment there came a soft tap on the outer door, which Constance
at once recognized. Mechanically she moved forward and opened the door.
Mrs. Lamotte stood on the threshold.

Seeing the doctor and Constance, she at once inferred that Sybil was the
subject under discussion, and to insure the patient against being
disturbed, beckoned the doctor to come outside.

As he stepped out into the hall, Constance, hoping to get a little
information from him, came forward, and standing in the doorway,
partially closed the door behind her.

"Doctor," said Mrs. Lamotte, anxiously, "do you see any change in
Sybil?"

He shook his head gravely.

"There is no marked change, madam; but I see a possibility that she may
return to consciousness within the next forty-eight hours, in which case
I must warn you against letting her know or guess at the calamity that
has befallen her."

The two women exchanged glances of relief.

"If she receives no shock until her mental balance is fully restored,
her recovery may be hoped for; otherwise--"

"Otherwise, doctor?"

"Otherwise, if she retains her life, it will be at the cost of her
reason."

"Oh!" moaned the mother, "death would be better than that."

There was the sound of a door opening softly down the hall. They all
turned their eyes that way to see Frank Lamotte emerging from Evan's
room. He came hurriedly toward them, and Constance noticed the nervous
unsteadiness of his gait, the pinched and pallid look of his face, the
feverish fire of his sunken eyes.

"Mother," he said, in a constrained voice, and without once glancing
toward Constance, "I think you had better have Doctor Benoit see Evan. I
have been with him all night, and am thoroughly worn out."

"What ails Evan, Frank?"

"Too much liquor," with a shrug of the shoulders. "He is on the verge of
the 'brandy madness,' he sometimes sings of. He must have powerful
narcotics, and no cessation of his stimulants, or we will have him
raving about the house like a veritable madman;