nt
state, the old man must at least have friends about him, and not
cold-blooded pinchers and parers, who had come to dislike him because
of his relation to the Trent girls. With characteristic impulsiveness,
Luke made up his mind that Mr. Boddy should be brought into the house
and kept there; if need be he would provide for him out of his own
pocket.

Mrs. Poole was no grumbler when a fellow-creature needed her kindness.
In a moment a match was put to the fire in the parlour; thither Jim and
Ackroyd bore the old man, and laid him upon the couch.

He did not seem wholly unconscious, for his eyes regarded first one,
then the other, of those who were ministering to him, but he made no
effort to speak; spoken to, he gave no sign of understanding. It was
found that there was blood upon his head; he must have injured himself
in falling. For a quarter of an hour the attempts at restoring him were
vain. Then Luke said:

'I shall have to run round for the doctor. For all we know, he may be
dying, for want of the proper things.'

'Aye, go, lad,' assented Jim. 'I don't like the look of his face. Do
you, Jane?'

Husband and wife whispered together during Luke's absence. They knew
from the latter into what a miserable state the old man had sunk, and
Jane was vigorous in reprobation of the Bowers. Ackroyd returned,
saying that the doctor would be at hand in a minute or two.

'Oughtn't you to go and tell Miss Trent?' Jane asked him, as all three
stood helpless, waiting.

'I've thought of it, but I'd rather not, if it can be helped. Wait till
the doctor comes.'

The old man lay quite still, breathing heavily. His eyes were yet open,
but had fixed themselves in one direction.

The doctor came. He directed that the sufferer should at once be put
into a warm bed.

'My room, then,' said Luke. 'Come and help, Jim.'

The directions were soon carried out, and the doctor went off, asking
someone to follow for medicine.

The wound proved to be of no moment; graver causes must have led to the
state of coma in which the old man lay. When Luke returned from the
doctor's, he reported that the latter had spoken rather seriously.

'I must go and see Lydia,' he said to his sister. 'You don't mind this
bother, Jane, eh? You'll sit by him?'

'Of course I will. Go and fetch her; it's my belief he hasn't very long
to live.'

It seemed to Ackroyd a long time since he had knocked at the door in
Walnut Tree Walk; very much had come abou