ward for the first time, and even then accidentally.

"Hilary!" he cried; "for God's sake, what's the matter? Are you sick?"

"Yes, Whitredge," said Mr. Vane, slowly, "sick at heart."

It was but natural that these extraordinary and incomprehensible words
should have puzzled and frightened the senator more than ever.

"Your heart!" he repeated.

"Yes, my heart," said Hilary.

The senator reached for the ice-water on the table.

"Here," he cried, pouring out a glass, "it's only the heat--it's been a
hard day--drink this."

But Hilary did not raise his arm. The door opened others coming to
congratulate Hilary Vane on the greatest victory he had ever won.
Offices were secure once more, the feudal system intact, and rebels
justly punished; others coming to make their peace with the commander
whom, senseless as they were, they had dared to doubt.

They crowded past each other on the threshold, and stood grouped beyond
the basswood table, staring--staring--men suddenly come upon a tragedy
instead of a feast, the senator still holding the glass of water in a
hand that trembled and spilled it. And it was the senator, after all,
who first recovered his presence of mind. He set down the water, pushed
his way through the group into the hall, where the tumult and the
shouting die. Mr. Giles Henderson, escorted, is timidly making his
way towards the platform to read his speech of acceptance of a willing
bondage, when a voice rings out:--"If there is a physician in the house,
will he please come forward?"

And then a hush,--and then the buzz of comment. Back to the little room
once more, where they are gathered speechless about Hilary Vane. And the
doctor comes young Dr. Tredway of Ripton, who is before all others.

"I expected this to happen, gentlemen," he said, "and I have been here
all day, at the request of Mr. Vane's son, for this purpose."

"Austen!"

It was Hilary who spoke.

"I have sent for him," said the doctor. "And now, gentlemen, if you will
kindly--"

They withdrew and the doctor shut the door. Outside, the Honourable
Giles is telling them how seriously he regards the responsibility of
the honour thrust upon him by a great party. But nobody hears him in the
wild rumours that fly from mouth to mouth as the hall empties. Rushing
in against the tide outpouring, tall, stern, vigorous, is a young man
whom many recognize, whose name is on many lips as they make way for
him, who might have saved them if he w