or proceeded to give him every detail
he knew of. When he was quite through, the other again lay still for a
long time. The silence was broken by a gentle tap at the door. The
Doctor lit a candle. He turned the key softly, so that no one would
notice that the door was locked. Something was said in a low whisper.
Then the door was gently closed, and the Doctor returning said:

'Lady Lannoy wants, if it will not disturb you, to ask how you are.
Ordinarily I should not let anyone see you. But she is not only your
hostess, but, as I have just told you, it was her ride to the headland,
where she burned the house to give you light, which was the beginning of
your rescue. Still if you think it better not . . . !'

'I hardly like anybody to see me like this!' said Harold, feebly seeking
an excuse.

'My dear man,' said the other, 'you may be easy in your mind, she won't
see much of you. You are all bandages and beard. She'll have to wait a
while before she sees you.'

'Didn't she see me last night?'

'Not she! Whilst we were trying to restore you she was rushing back to
the Castle to see that all was ready for you, and for the others from the
wreck.' This vaguely soothed Harold.

If his surmise was correct, and if she had not seen him then, it was well
that he was bandaged now. He felt that it would not do to refuse to let
her see him; it might look suspicious. So after pausing a short while he
said in a low voice:

'I suppose she had better come now. We must not keep her waiting!' When
the Doctor brought her to his bedside Stephen felt in a measure awed. His
bandaged face and head and his great beard, singed in patches, looked to
her in the dim light rather awesome. In a very gentle voice she said
kind things to the sick man, who acknowledged them in a feeble whisper.
The Doctor, a keen observer, noticed the change in his voice, and
determined to understand more. Stephen spoke of his bravery, and of how
it was due to him that all on the ship were saved; and as she spoke her
emotion moved her so much that her sweet voice shook and quivered. To
the ears of the man who had now only sound to guide him, it was music of
the sweetest he had ever heard. Fearing lest his voice should betray
him, he whispered his own thanks feebly and in few words.

When Stephen went away the Doctor went with her; it was more than an hour
before he returned. He found his patient in what he considered a state
of suppressed ex