d him for its own. Remain with him, Kate;
I will go at once for Doctor Danton."

Five minutes later the Captain was galloping towards the village hotel,
through the gray, gathering dusk. The young Doctor was in, seated in his
own room, reading a ponderous-looking volume. He arose to greet his
visitor, but stopped short at sight of his grave and anxious face.

"There is nothing wrong, I hope?" he inquired; "nothing has happened at
the Hall?"

The Captain looked around the little chamber with the same anxious
glance.

"We are quite alone?" he said.

"Quite," replied his brother-in-law, very much surprised.

"I have a story to tell you--a secret to confide to you. Your services
are required at the Hall; but before I can avail myself of these
services, I have a sacred trust to confide to you--a trust I am certain
you will never betray."

"I shall never betray any trust you may repose in me, Captain Danton,"
the young man answered gravely.

Some dim inkling of the truth was in his mind as he spoke. Captain
Danton drew his chair closer, and in a low, hurried voice began his
story. The story he had once before told Reginald Stanford, the story of
his unfortunate son.

Doctor Frank listened with a face of changeless calm. No surprise was
expressed in his grave, earnest, listening countenance. When the Captain
had finished his narrative, with an account of the fever that rendered
his presence at once necessary, a faint flush dyed his forehead.

"I shall be certain now," he thought. "I only saw Agnes Darling's
husband once, and then for a moment; but I shall know him again if I
ever see him."

"I shall be with you directly," he said, rising; "as soon as they saddle
my horse."

He rang the bell and gave the order. By the time his cap and coat were
on, and a few other preparations made, the hostler had the horse at the
door.

It was quite dark now; but the road was white with snow and the two men
rode rapidly to the Hall with the strong January wind blowing in their
faces. They went upstairs at once, and Doctor Frank, with an odd
sensation, followed the master of Danton Hall across the threshold of
that mysterious Mr. Richards' room.

The Captain's son lay in a feverish sleep, tossing wildly and raving
incoherently. Kate, sitting by his bedside, he mistook for some one
else, calling her "Agnes," and talking in disjointed sentences of days
and things long since past.

"He thinks she is his wife," the Captain sai