die," she said, looking up at him with brave,
steadfast eyes.

Girdlestone recovered his self-possession by an effort. "It is clear to
me," he said calmly, "that your reason is unhinged. What is all this
nonsense about death? There is nothing that will harm you except your
own evil actions." He turned abruptly and strode out of the room with
the firm and decided step of a man who has taken an irrevocable
resolution.

With a set and rigid face he ascended the steps which led to his
bedroom, and, rummaging in his desk, produced a telegram form. This he
filled up and took with him downstairs. There he put on his hat and
started off to the Bedsworth Post-office at full speed.

At the avenue gate he met his sentinel, who was sitting on his camp
stool as grim as ever.

"She is very bad, Stevens," Girdlestone said, stopping and jerking his
head in the direction of the house. "She is going downhill. I am
afraid that she can't last long. If any one asks you about her, you can
say that she was despaired of. I am just sending off a telegram to a
doctor in London, so that she may have the best advice."

Stevens touched his greasy-peaked cap as a token of respect. "She was
down here behavin' outrageous the other day," said he. "'Let me pass,'
says she, 'and you shall have ten golden guineas.' Them's her very
words. 'Not for ten hundred golden guineas,' I answers, 'would William
Stevens, hesquire, do what he didn't ought to.'"

"Very proper, very proper indeed," said Girdlestone approvingly.
"Every man in his own station has his own duties to fulfil, and he will
be judged as he has fulfilled them, well or ill. I shall see that you
are no loser by your staunchness."

"Thank ye, guv'nor."

"She is wild and delirious, and can get about in spite of her low state
of health. It is possible that she may make some effort to get away, so
be vigilant. Good day to you."

"Good day, sir." William Stevens stood at the gate, looking pensively
after his employer; then he reseated himself upon his camp-stool, and,
lighting his pipe, resumed his meditations. "I can't make nought of
it," he muttered, scratching his head, "It do seem uncommon queer, to be
sure. The boss he says, 'She's very low,' says he, and then next minute
he says, 'She may be comin' down and tryin' to escape. 'I've seen diers
o' all shapes and sizes, but I've never seed one as went a galivantin'
about like this--at least, not among them as died a nat'