venerable face, as white as marble, now set in
the fixedness of death, whose white hair was all stained with the
blood that oozed from the wound on his forehead, all Zillah's
tenderness returned. Bitterly she reproached herself.

"I have killed him! It was all my fault!" she cried. "Oh, save him!
Do something! Can you not save him?"

Mrs. Hart did not seem to hear her at all. She had carried the Earl
to the sofa, and then she knelt by his side, with her arms flung
around him. She seemed unconscious of the presence of Zillah. Her
head lay on the Earl's breast. At last she pressed her lips to his
forehead, where the blood flowed, with a quick, feverish kiss. Her
white face, as it was set against the stony face of the Earl,
startled Zillah. She stood mute.

The servants hurried in. Mrs. Hart roused herself, and had the Earl
carried to his room. Zillah followed. The Earl was put to bed. A
servant was sent off for a doctor. Mrs. Hart and Zillah watched
anxiously till the doctor came. The doctor dressed the wound, and
gave directions for the treatment of the patient. Quiet above all
things was enjoined. Apoplexy was hinted at, but it was only a hint.
The real conviction of the doctor seemed to be that it was mental
trouble of some kind, and this conviction was shared by those who
watched the Earl.

Zillah and Mrs. Hart both watched that night. They sat in an
adjoining room. But little was said at first. Zillah was busied with
her own thoughts, and Mrs. Hart was preoccupied, and more distrait
than usual.

Midnight came. For hours Zillah had brooded over her own sorrows. She
longed for sympathy. Mrs. Hart seemed to her to be the one in whom
she might best confide. The evident affection which Mrs. Hart felt
for the Earl was of itself an inducement to confidence. Her own
affection for the aged housekeeper also impelled her to tell her all
that had happened. And so it was that, while they sat there together,
Zillah gradually told her about her interview with the Earl.

But the story which Zillah told did not comprise the whole truth. She
did not wish to go into details, and there were many circumstances
which she did not feel inclined to tell to the housekeeper. There was
no reason why she should tell about the secret cipher, and very many
reasons why she should not. It was an affair which concerned her
father and her family. That her own fears were well founded she dared
not suppose, and therefore she would not even hint