seem to be working at all. Even the power to suffer
seemed to have left him. He felt curiously indifferent, strangely
submissive to circumstances,--like a man scourged into the numbness of
exhaustion. He knew at the back of his mind that as soon as his vitality
reasserted itself the agony would return. The respite could not last, but
while it lasted he knew no pain. Like one in a state of coma, he was not
even aware of thought.

It might have been hours later, or possibly only minutes, that
Maxwell Wyndham came round to his side and bent over him, a quiet
hand on his shoulder.

"You had better lay her down," he said. "She won't wake now."

"What?" said Piers sharply.

The words had stabbed him back to understanding in a second. He glared at
the doctor with eyes half-savage, half-frightened.

"No, no!" said Wyndham gently. "I don't mean that. She is asleep. She is
breathing. But she will rest better if you lay her down."

The absolute calmness with which he spoke took effect upon Piers. He
yielded, albeit not very willingly, to the mandate.

They laid her down upon the pillow between them, and then for many
seconds Wyndham stood, closely watching, almost painfully intent. Piers
waited dumbly, afraid to move, afraid to speak.

The doctor turned to him at last. "What about that meal you spoke of?
Shall we go down and get it?"

Piers stared at him. "I am not leaving her," he said in a quick whisper.

Wyndham's hand was on his shoulder again--a steady, compelling hand. "Oh
yes, you are. I want to talk to you," he said. "She is sleeping
naturally, and she won't wake for some time. Come!"

There was nothing peremptory about him, yet he gained his end. Piers
rose. He hung for a moment over the bed, gazing hungrily downwards upon
the shadowy, motionless form, then in silence turned.

Tudor had risen. He met them in the doorway, and between him and the
London doctor a few words passed. Then the latter pushed his hand through
Piers' arm, and drew him away.

They descended the wide oak stairs together and entered the dining-room.
Piers moved like a man dazed. His companion went straight to the table
and poured out a drink, which he immediately held out to Piers, looking
at him with eyes that were green and very shrewd.

"I think we shall save her," he said.

Piers drank in great gulps, and came to himself. "I say, I'm beastly
rude!" he said, with sudden boyishness. "For goodness' sake, help
yourself! Sit down, wo