, to render her a hopeless paralytic for
life.

At length the patient sank into the coma of exhaustion, and Dr.
Williamson was able to leave her in the care of a brother practitioner
whom he had sent for, and in that of his assistant. Sir John had been
sent for, but had not arrived. It was then eleven o'clock, and at one
the doctor was summoned as a witness to attend the inquest on George
Caresfoot. He had, therefore, two hours at his disposal, and these he
determined to utilise by driving round to see Angela, who was still
lying at Mr. Fraser's vicarage.

Mr. Fraser heard him coming, and met him in the little drive. He
briefly told him what he had just seen, and what, in his opinion, Lady
Bellamy's fate must be--one of living death. The clergyman's remark
was characteristic.

"And yet," he said, "there are people in the world who say that there
is no God."

"How is Mrs. Caresfoot?" asked the doctor.

"She had a dreadful fit of raving this morning, and we had to tie her
down in bed. She is quieter now, poor dear. There, listen!"

At that moment, through the open window of the bedroom, they heard a
sweet though untrained voice beginning to sing. It was Angela's, and
she was singing snatches of an old-fashioned sailor-song, one of
several which Arthur had taught her:

"Fare ye well, and adieu to all you Spanish ladies,
Fare ye well, and adieu to ye, ladies of Spain,
For we've received orders to return to Old England,
But we hope in a short time to see you again.

* * *

"We hove our ship to with the wind at sou'west, my boys;
We hove our ship to for to strike soundings clear;
It was forty-five fathom and a grey sandy bottom;
Then we filled our main topsail, and up channel did steer.

* * *

"The signal was made for the grand fleet to anchor,
All in the Downs that night for to meet;
So cast off your shank-painter, let go your cat's-topper,
Hawl up your clew-garnets, let fly tack and sheet."

Without waiting to hear any more, they went up the stairs and entered
the bedroom. The first person they saw was Pigott, who had been sent
for to nurse Angela, standing by the side of the bed, and a trained
nurse at a little table at the foot mixing some medicine. On the bed
itself lay Angela, shorn of all her beautiful hair, her face flushed
as with fever, except where a blue weal bore witne