in his idolisation of her. `One
minute of the grand style.' That was it. Charlie had judged her very
well--damn him! And the one minute was priceless, beyond all
estimation.

The fire sank, with little sounds of decay; and he stared at it,
prevented as if by a spell from stooping to make it up, prevented even
from looking at his watch. At length he shivered slightly, and the
movement broke the trance. He wandered to the door, which Charlie had
left ajar, and listened. No sign of life! He listened intently, but
his ear could catch nothing whatever. What were those two doing
upstairs with the boy? Cautiously he stepped out into the passage, and
went to the foot of the stairs, where a gas jet was burning. He was
reminded of the nights preceding his father's death.

Another gas jet showed along the corridor at the head of the stairs. He
put his foot on the first step; it creaked with a noise comparable to
the report of a pistol in the dead silence. But there was no responsive
sound to show that anyone had been alarmed by this explosion. Impelled
by nervous curiosity, and growing careless, he climbed the
reverberating, complaining stairs, and, entering the corridor, stood
exactly in front of the closed door of the sick-room, and listened
again, and heard naught. His heart was obstreperously beating. Part of
the household slept; the other part watched; and he was between the two,
like a thief, like a spy. Should he knock, discreetly, and ask if he
could be of help? The strange romance of his existence, and of all
existence, flowed around him in mysterious currents, obsessing him.

Suddenly the door opened, and Charlie, barely avoiding a collision,
started back in alarm. Then Charlie recovered his self-possession and
carefully shut the door.

"I was just wondering whether I could be any use," Edwin stammered in a
whisper.

Charlie whispered: "It's all right, but I must run round to Stirling's,
and get a drug I want."

"Is he worse?"

"Yes. That is--yes. You never know with a child. They're up and down
and all over the place inside of an hour."

"Can I go?" Edwin suggested.

"No. I can explain to him quicker than you."

"You'll never find your way in this fog."

"Bosh, man! D'you think I don't know the town as well as you? Besides,
it's lifted considerably."

By a common impulse they tiptoed to the window at the end of the
corridor. Across the lawn could be dimly discerned a gleam thr