ood Heavens! Do you mean that he suspected--"

"He was dead drunk two minutes afterwards, and said that Hawke was dying
of typhus, and that he'd certify under his hand. 'But no matter about
_him_,' said he, impatiently. 'If Hawke goes off to-night, it will be
a good thing for all of us. Here's this imp of a child!' muttered he,
below his breath; 'let us be careful.' And so we parted company, each
taking his own road.

"I walked about the grounds alone all day,--I need not tell you with
what a heavy heart and a loaded conscience, and only came back to
dinner. We were just sitting down to table, when the door opened, and,
like a corpse out of his grave, Hawke stole slowly in, and sat down
amongst us. He never spoke a word, nor looked at any one. I swear to
you, so terrible was the apparition, so ghastly, and so death-like, that
I almost doubted if he were still living.

"'Well done, old boy! there 's nothing will do you such good as a little
cheering up,' cried Towers.

"'_She_'s asleep,' said he, in a low, feeble voice, 'and so I stole down
to eat my last dinner with you.'

"'Not the last for many a year to come,' said Wake, filling his glass.
'The doctor says you are made of iron.'

"'A man of mettle, I suppose,' said he, with a feeble attempt to laugh.

"'There! isn't he quite himself again?' cried Wake. 'By George! he 'll
see us all down yet!'

"'Down where?' said Hawke, solemnly. And the tone and the words struck a
chill over us.

"We did not rally for some time, and when we did, it was with an effort
forced and unnatural. Hawke took something on his plate, but ate none
of it, turning the meat over with his fork in a listless way. His wine,
too, he laid down when half-way to his lips, and then spat it out over
the carpet, saying to himself something inaudible.

"'What's the matter, Godfrey? Don't you like that capital sherry?' said
Towers.

"'No,' said he, in a hollow, sepulchral voice.

"'We have all pronounced it admirable,' went on the other.

"'It burns,--everything burns,' said the sick man.

"I filled him a glass of iced water and handed it to him, and Towers
gave me a look so full of hate and vengeance that my hand nearly let the
tumbler drop.

"'Don't drink cold water, man!' cried Towers, catching his arm; 'that
is the worst thing in the world for you.'

"'It won't poison me, will it?' said Hawke. And he fixed his leaden,
glazy gaze on Towers.

"'What the devil do you mean?' cried he, sa