THE night had advanced. It was close on twelve o'clock when Anneheard the servant's voice, outside her bedroom door, asking leaveto speak with her for a moment.

"What is it?"

"The gentleman down stairs wishes to see you, ma'am."

"Do you mean Mr. Delamayn's brother?"

"Yes."

"Where is Mr. Delamayn?"

"Out in the garden, ma'am."

Anne went down stairs, and found Julius alone inthe drawing-room.

"I am sorry to disturb you," he said. "I am afraid Geoffrey isill. The landlady has gone to bed, I am told--and I don't knowwhere to apply for medical assistance. Do you know of any doctorin the neighborhood?"

Anne, like Julius, was a perfect stranger to the neighborhood.She suggested making inquiry of the servant. On speaking to thegirl, it turned out that she knew of a medical man, living withinten minutes' walk of the cottage. She could give plain directionsenabling any person to find the place--but she was afraid, atthat hour of the night and in that lonely neighborhood, to go outby herself.

"Is he seriously ill?" Anne asked.

"He is in such a state of nervous irritability," said Julius,"that he can't remain still for two moments together in the sameplace. It began with incessant restlessness while he was readinghere. I persuaded him to go to bed. He couldn't lie still for aninstant--he came down again, burning with fever, and morerestless than ever. He is out in the garden in spite of everything I could do to prevent him; trying, as he says, to 'run itoff.' It appears to be serious to _me._. Come and judge foryourself."

He led Anne into the next room; and, opening the shutter, pointedto the garden.

The clouds had cleared off; the night was fine. The clearstarlight showed Geoffrey, stripped to his shirt and drawers,running round and round the garden. He apparently believedhimself to be contending at the Fulham foot-race. At times, asthe white figure circled round and round in the star-light, theyheard him cheering for "the South." The slackening thump of hisfeet on the ground, the heavier and heavier gasps in which hedrew his breath, as he passed the window, gave warning that hisstrength was failing him. Exhaustion, if it led to no worseconsequences, would force him to return to the house. In thestate of his brain at that moment who could say what the resultmight be, if medical help was not called in?

"I will go for the doctor," said Julius, "if you don't mind myleaving you."

It was impossible for Anne to set any apprehensions of her ownagainst the plain necessity for summoning assistance. They foundthe key of the gate in the pocket of Geoffrey's coat up stairs.Anne went with Julius to let him out. "How can I thank you!" shesaid, gratefully. "What should I have done without _you!_"

"I won't be a moment longer than I can help," he answered, andleft her.

She secured the gate again, and went back to the cottage. Theservant met her at the door, and proposed calling up HesterDethridge.

"We don't know what the master may do while his brother's away,"said the girl. "And one more of us isn't one too many, when weare only women in the house."

"You are quite right," said Anne. "Wake your mistress."

After ascending the stairs, they looked out into the garden,through the window at the end of the passage on the upper floor.He was still going round and round, but very slowly: his pace wasfast slackening to a walk.

Anne went back to her room, and waited near the open door--readyto close and fasten it instantly if any thing occurred to alarmher. "How changed I am!" she thought to herself. "Every thingfrightens me, now."

The inference was the natural one--but not the true one. Thechange was not in herself, but in the situation in which she wasplaced. Her position during the investigation at Lady Lundie'shouse had tried her moral courage only. It had exacted from herone of those noble efforts of self-sacrifice which the hiddenforces in a woman's nature are essentially capable of making. Herposition at the cottage tried her physical courage: it called onher to rise superior to the sense of actual bodily danger--whilethat danger was lurking in the dark. There, the woman's naturesank under the stress laid on it--there, her courage could strikeno root in the strength of her love--there, the animal instinctswere the instincts appealed to; and the firmness wanted was thefirmness of a man.

Hester Dethridge's door opened. She walked straight into Anne'sroom.

The yellow clay-cold color of her face showed a faint flush ofwarmth; its deathlike stillness was stirred by a touch of life.The stony eyes, fixed as ever in their gaze, shone strangely witha dim inner lustre. Her gray hair, so neatly arranged at othertimes, was in disorder under her cap. All her movements werequicker than usual. Something had roused the stagnant vitality inthe woman--it was working in her mind; it was forcing itselfoutward into her face. The servants at Windygates, in past times,had seen these signs, and had known them for a warning to leaveHester Dethridge to herself.

Anne asked her if she had heard what had happened.

She bowed her head.

"I hope you don't mind being disturbed?"

She wrote on her slate: "I'm glad to be disturbed. I have beendreaming bad dreams. It's good for me to be wakened, when sleeptakes me backward in my life. What's wrong with you? Frightened?"

"Yes."

She wrote again, and pointed toward the garden with one hand,while she held the slate up with the other: "Frightened of_him?_"

"Terribly frightened."

She wrote for the third time, and offered the slate to Anne witha ghastly smile: "I have been through it all. I know. You're onlyat the beginning now. He'll put the wrinkles in your face, andthe gray in your hair. There will come a time when you'll wishyourself dead and buried. You will live through it, for all that.Look at Me."

As she read the last three words, Anne heard the garden doorbelow opened and banged to again. She caught Hester Dethridge bythe arm, and listened. The tramp of Geoffrey's feet, staggeringheavily in the passage, gave token of his approach to the stairs.He was talking to himself, still possessed by the delusion thathe was at the foot-race. "Five to four on Delamayn. Delamayn'swon. Three cheers for the South, and one cheer more. Devilishlong race. Night already! Perry! where's Perry?"

He advanced, staggering from side to side of the passage. Thestairs below creaked as he set his foot on them. Hester Dethridgedragged herself free from Anne, advanced, with her candle in herhand, and threw open Geoffrey's bedroom door; returned to thehead of the stairs; and stood there, firm as a rock, waiting forhim. He looked up, as he set his foot on the next stair, and metthe view of Hester's face, brightly illuminated by the candle,looking down at him. On the instant he stopped, rooted to theplace on which he stood. "Ghost! witch! devil!" he cried out,"take your eyes off me!" He shook his fist at her furiously, withan oath--sprang back into the hall--and shut himself into thedining-room from the sight of her. The panic which had seized himonce already in the kitchen-garden at Windygates, under the eyesof the dumb cook, had fastened its hold on him once more.Frightened--absolutely frightened--of Hester Dethridge!

The gate bell rang. Julius had returned with the doctor.

Anne gave the key to the girl to let them in. Hester wrote on herslate, as composedly as if nothing had happened: "They'll find mein the kitchen, if they want me. I sha'n't go back to my bedroom.My bedroom's full of bad dreams." She descended the stairs. Annewaited in the upper passage, looking over into the hall below."Your brother is in the drawing-room," she called down to Julius."The landlady is in the kitchen, if you want her." She returnedto her room, and waited for what might happen next.

After a brief interval she heard the drawing-room door open, andthe voices of the men out side. There seemed to be somedifficulty in persuading Geoffrey to ascend the stairs; hepersisted in declaring that Hester Dethridge was waiting for himat the top of them. After a little they persuaded him that theway was free. Anne heard them ascend the stairs and close hisbedroom door.

Another and a longer interval passed before the door openedagain. The doctor was going away. He said his parting words toJulius in the passage. "Look in at him from time to time throughthe night, and give him another dose of the sedative mixture ifhe wakes. There is nothing to b e alarmed about in therestlessness and the fever. They are only the outwardmanifestations of some serious mischief hidden under them. Sendfor the medical man who has last attended him. Knowledge of thepatient's constitution is very important knowledge in this case."

As Julius returned from letting the doctor out, Anne met him inthe hall. She was at once struck by the worn look in his face,and by the fatigue which expressed itself in all his movements.

"You want rest," she said. "Pray go to your room. I have heardwhat the doctor said to you. Leave it to the landlady and to meto sit up."

Julius owned that he had been traveling from Scotland during theprevious night. But he was unwilling to abandon theresponsibility of watching his brother. "You are not strongenough, I am sure, to take my place," he said, kindly. "AndGeoffrey has some unreasoning horror of the landlady which makesit very undesirable that he should see her again, in his presentstate. I will go up to my room, and rest on the bed. If you hearany thing you have only to come and call me."

An hour more passed.

Anne went to Geoffrey's door and listened. He was stirring in hisbed, and muttering to himself. She went on to the door of thenext room, which Julius had left partly open. Fatigue hadoverpowered him; she heard, within, the quiet breathing of a manin a sound sleep. Anne turned back again resolved not to disturbhim.

At the head of the stairs she hesitated--not knowing what to do.Her horror of entering Geoffrey's room, by herself, wasinsurmountable. But who else was to do it? "The girl had gone tobed. The reason which Julius had given for not employing theassistance of Hester Dethridge was unanswerable. She listenedagain at Geoffrey's door. No sound was now audible in the room toa person in the passage outside. Would it be well to look in, andmake sure that he had only fallen asleep again? She hesitatedonce more--she was still hesitating, when Hester Dethridgeappeared from the kitchen.

She joined Anne at the top of the stairs--looked at her--andwrote a line on her slate: "Frightened to go in? Leave it to Me."

The silence in the room justified the inference that he wasasleep. If Hester looked in, Hester could do no harm now. Anneaccepted the proposal.

"If you find any thing wrong," she said, "don't disturb hisbrother. Come to me first."

With that caution she withdrew. It was then nearly two in themorning. She, like Julius, was sinking from fatigue. Afterwaiting a little, and hearing nothing, she threw herself on thesofa in her room. If any thing happened, a knock at the doorwould rouse her instantly.

In the mean while Hester Dethridge opened Geoffrey's bedroom doorand went in.

The movements and the mutterings which Anne had heard, had beenmovements and mutterings in his sleep. The doctor's composingdraught, partially disturbed in its operation for the momentonly, had recovered its sedative influence on his brain. Geoffreywas in a deep and quiet sleep.

Hester stood near the door, looking at him. She moved to go outagain--stopped--and fixed her eyes suddenly on one of the innercorners of the room.

The same sinister change which had passed over her once alreadyin Geoffrey's presence, when they met in the kitchen-garden atWindygates, now passed over her again. Her closed lips droppedapart. Her eyes slowly dilated--moved, inch by inch from thecorner, following something along the empty wall, in thedirection of the bed--stopped at the head of the bed, exactlyabove Geoffrey's sleeping face--stared, rigid and glittering, asif they saw a sight of horror close over it. He sighed faintly inhis sleep. The sound, slight as it was, broke the spell that heldher. She slowly lifted her withered hands, and wrung them aboveher head; fled back across the passage; and, rushing into herroom, sank on her knees at the bedside.

Now, in the dead of night, a strange thing happened. Now, in thesilence and the darkness, a hideous secret was revealed.

In the sanctuary of her own room--with all the other inmates ofthe house sleeping round her--the dumb woman threw off themysterious and terrible disguise under which she deliberatelyisolated herself among her fellow-creatures in the hours of theday. Hester Dethridge spoke. In low, thick, smothered accents--ina wild litany of her own--she prayed. She called upon the mercyof God for deliverance from herself; for deliverance from thepossession of the Devil; for blindness to fall on her, for deathto strike her, so that she might never see that unnamed Horrormore! Sobs shook the whole frame of the stony woman whom nothinghuman moved at other times. Tears poured over those clay-coldcheeks. One by one, the frantic words of her prayer died away onher lips. Fierce shuddering fits shook her from head to foot. Shestarted up from her knees in the darkness. Light! light! light!The unnamed Horror was behind her in his room. The unnamed Horrorwas looking at her through his open door. She found thematch-box, and lit the candle on her table--lit the two othercandles set for ornament only on the mantle piece--and looked allround the brightly lighted little room. "Aha!" she said toherself, wiping the cold sweat of her agony from her face."Candles to other people. God's light to _me._ Nothing to beseen! nothing to be seen!" Taking one of the candles in her hand,she crossed the passage, with her head down, turned her back onGeoffrey's open door, closed it quickly and softly, stretchingout her hand behind her, and retreated again to her own room. Shefastened the door, and took an ink-bottle and a pen from themantle-piece. After considering for a moment, she hung ahandkerchief over the keyhole, and laid an old shawl longwise atthe bottom of the door, so as to hide the light in her room fromthe observation of any one in the house who might wake and comethat way. This done, she opened the upper part of her dress, and,slipping her fingers into a secret pocket hidden in the innerside of her stays, produced from it some neatly folded leaves ofthin paper. Spread out on the table, the leaves revealedthemselves--all but the last--as closely covered with writing, inher own hand.

The first leaf was headed by this inscription: "My Confession. Tobe put into my coffin, and to be buried with me when I die."

She turned the manuscript over, so as to get at the last page.The greater part of it was left blank. A few lines of writing, atthe top, bore the date of the day of the week and month on whichLady Lundie had dismissed her from her situation at Windygates.The entry was expressed in these terms:

"I have seen IT again to-day. The first time for two months past.In the kitchen-garden. Standing behind the young gentleman whosename is Delamayn. Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you. Ihave resisted. By prayer. By meditation in solitude. By readinggood books. I have left my place. I have lost sight of the younggentleman for good. Who will IT stand behind? and point to next?Lord have mercy upon me! Christ have mercy upon me!"

Under this she now added the following lines, first carefullyprefixing the date:

"I have seen IT again to-night. I notice one awful change. IT hasappeared twice behind the same person. This has never happenedbefore. This makes the temptation more terrible than ever.To-night, in his bedroom, between the bed-head and the wall, Ihave seen IT behind young Mr. Delamayn again. The head just abovehis face, and the finger pointing downward at his throat. Twicebehind this one man. And never twice behind any other livingcreature till now. If I see IT a third time behind him--Lorddeliver me! Christ deliver me! I daren't think of it. He shallleave my cottage to-morrow. I would fain have drawn back from thebargain, when the stranger took the lodgings for his friend, andthe friend proved to be Mr. Delamayn. I didn't like it, eventhen. After the warning to-night, my mind is made up. He shallgo. He may have his money back, if he likes. He shall go.(Memorandum: Felt the temptation whispering this time, and theterror tearing at me all the while, as I havenever felt them yet. Resisted, as before, by prayer. Am nowgoing down stairs to meditate against it in solitude--to fortifymyself against it by good books. Lord be merciful to me asinner!)"

In those words she closed the entry, and put the manuscript backin the secret pocket in her stays.

She went down to the little room looking on the garden, which hadonce been her brother's study. There she lit a lamp, and tooksome books from a shelf that hung against the wall. The bookswere the Bible, a volume of Methodist sermons, and a set ofcollected Memoirs of Methodist saints. Ranging these lastcarefully round her, in an order of her own, Hester Dethridge satdown with the Bible on her lap to watch out the night.