Presently Miriam dropped her
hands from her face and looked straight before her; there was something
worse than horror in her expression; there was a poignant, a vivid
terror.

Celia found some eau-de-Cologne and bathed Miriam's forehead.

"You won't faint, Lady Heyton?" she said. "They will need you--you must
try to bear up. He is not dead----"

"No, thank God!" murmured Miriam. "Why, it would be--murder, wouldn't
it?" she asked suddenly, still staring in front of her.

"I--I don't know," said Celia. "I know no more than you do. It is a
burglary, isn't it? I heard one of the servants say that the safe had
been broken into."

"The safe!" echoed Miriam, in a toneless voice. "Yes, the safe--the
diamonds. What is that?" she asked, with almost a scream.

"Carriage wheels: the doctor," said Celia, soothingly.

"Go--go and hear what he says," said Miriam, in a hushed whisper. "I--I
want to know at once. I can't go back; I dare not!"

"No; stay here, I will come to you," said Celia. "Shall I bring Lord
Heyton to you?"

"No, no!" responded Miriam, shrinking away. "No, no! Don't bring him
here. I--I mean he should be there; there will be things to do----Oh,
don't you understand! I don't want him here!"

"I understand," said Celia; "but you must try to be calm. There will be
so much to do----"

"Calm!" cried Miriam, flinging out her arms. "Am I not calm? Do you
think I'm not trying not to give way; that I'm not trying to keep sane?
Go! Go!"

Celia went back to the Marquess's room. Mrs. Dexter and the doctor were
bending over the bed; Heyton was standing at a little distance, watching
them and gnawing his nails. Mrs. Dexter looked round as Celia entered.

"I want you, my dear," she said. "I want you to help me. He is not
dead," she went on in a whisper; "he is still alive, though Doctor Scott
will not give us any hope yet."

Celia assisted Mrs. Dexter in carrying out the doctor's orders; the
Marquess was still unconscious; but though he looked more dead than
alive, life was still present. After a time, there came a timid and
subdued knock at the door. Mrs. Dexter signed to Celia to open it and
she did so. It was Smith, the butler.

"The Inspector has come, Miss Grant, and is asking for Lord Heyton," he
said in a tremulous voice.

Heyton turned at the sound of his name and went out.

"How is the Marquess, my lord?" asked Smith, who was deeply agitated.

"Oh, he's all right," said Heyton. "I mean, the doctor t