Black Bill spoke for the first time since the boy had seen
him. A grim smile spread over his hard features.

"Yes," said he, "_we've got him at last_!"

CHAPTER LVI.

AT HIS BEDSIDE.

Meanwhile Hilda's position was a hard one. Days passed on. The one
who came to act as a nurse was herself stricken down, as she had
already been twice before. They carried her away to another room, and
Gretchen devoted herself to her care. Delirium came on, and all the
past lived again in the fever-tossed mind of the sufferer.
Unconscious of the real world in which she lay, she wandered in a
world of phantoms, where the well-remembered forms of her past life
surrounded her. Some deliriums are pleasant. All depend upon the
ruling feelings of the one upon whom it is fixed. But here the ruling
feeling of Hilda was not of that kind which could bring happiness.
Her distracted mind wandered again through those scenes through which
she had passed. Her life at Chetwynde, with all its later horrors and
anxieties, came back before her. Again and again the vision of the
dying Earl tormented her. What she said these foreign nurses heard,
but understood not. They soothed her as best they might, and stood
aghast at her sufferings, but were not able to do any thing to
alleviate them. Most of all, however, her mind turned to the
occurrences of the last few days and weeks. Again she was flying to
the bedside of Lord Chetwynde; again the anguish of suspense devoured
her, as she struggled against weakness to reach him; and again she
felt overwhelmed by the shock of the first sight of the sick man, on
whom she thought that she saw the stamp of death.

Meanwhile, as Hilda lay senseless, Lord Chetwynde hovered between
life and death. The physician who had attended him came in on the
morning after Hilda's arrival, and learned from the nurse that Lady
Chetwynde had come suddenly, more dead than alive, and was herself
struck down by fever. She had watched him all night from her own
couch, until at last she had lost consciousness; but all her soul
seemed bent on one thing, and that was that a certain medicine should
be administered regularly to Lord Chetwynde. The doctor asked to see
it. He smelled it and tasted it. An expression of horror passed over
his face.

"My God!" he murmured. "I did not dare to suspect it! It must be so!"

"Where is Lord Chetwynde's valet?" he asked at length, after a
thoughtful pause.

"I don't know, Sir," said the n