JULIAN happened to be standing nearest to Mercy. He was the firstat her side when she fell.

In the cry of alarm which burst from him, as he raised her for amoment in his arms, in the expression of his eyes when he lookedat her death-like face, there escaped the plain--tooplain--confession of the interest which he felt in her, of theadmiration which she had aroused in him. Horace detected it.There was the quick suspicion of jealousy in the movement bywhich he joined Julian; there was the ready resentment ofjealousy in the tone in which he pronounced the words, "Leave herto me." Julian resigned her in silence. A faint flush appeared onhis pale face as he drew back while Horace carried her to thesofa. His eyes sunk to the ground; he seemed to be meditatingself-reproachfully on the tone in which his friend had spoken tohim. After having been the first to take an active part inmeeting the calamity that had happened, he was now, to allappearance, insensible to everything that was passing in theroom.

A touch on his shoulder roused him.

He turned and looked round. The woman who had done themischief--the stranger in the poor black garments--was standingbehind him. She pointed to the prostrate figure on the sofa, witha merciless smile.

"You wanted a proof just now," she said. "There it is!"

Horace heard her. He suddenly left the sofa and joined Julian.His face, naturally ruddy, was pale with suppressed fury.

"Take that wretch away!" he said. "Instantly! or I won't answerfor what I may do."

Those words recalled Julian to himself. He looked round the room.Lady Janet and the housekeeper were together, in attendance onthe swooning woman. The startled servants were congregated in thelibrary doorway. One of them offered to run to the nearestdoctor; another asked if he should fetch the police. Juliansilenced them by a gesture, and turned to Horace. "Composeyourself," he said. "Leave me to remove her quietly from thehouse." He took Grace by the hand as he spoke. She hesitated, andtried to release herself. Julian pointed to the group at thesofa, and to the servants looking on. "You have made an enemy ofevery one in this room," he said, "and you have not a friend inLondon. Do you wish to make an enemy of _me?_ Her head drooped;she made no reply; she waited, dumbly obedient to the firmer willthan her own. Julian ordered the servants crowding together inthe doorway to withdraw. He followed them into the library,leading Grace after him by the hand. Before closing the door hepaused, and looked back into the dining-room.

"Is she recovering?" he asked, after a moment's hesitation.

Lady Janet's voice answered him. "Not yet."

"Shall I send for the nearest doctor?"

Horace interposed. He declined to let Julian associate himself,even in that indirect manner, with Mercy's recovery.

"If the doctor is wanted," he said, "I will go for him myself."

Julian closed the library door. He absently released Grace; hemechanically pointed to a chair. She sat down in silent surprise,following him with her eyes as he walked slowly to and fro in theroom.

For the moment his mind was far away from her, and from all thathad happened since her appearance in the house. It was impossiblethat a man of his fineness of perception could mistake themeaning of Horace's conduct toward him. He was questioning hisown heart, on the subject of Mercy, sternly and unreservedly asit was his habit to do. "After only once seeing her," he thought,"has she produced such an impression on me that Horace candiscover it, before I have even suspected it myself? Can the timehave come already when I owe it to my friend to see her no more?"He stopped irritably in his walk. As a man devoted to a seriouscalling in life, there was something that wounded hisself-respect in the bare suspicion that he could be guilty of thepurely sentimental extravagance called "love at first sight."

He had paused exactly opposite to the chair in which Grace wasseated. Weary of the silence, she seized the opportunity ofspeaking to him.

"I have come here with you as you wished," she said. "Are yougoing to help me? Am I to count on you as my friend?"

He looked at her vacantly. It cost him an effort before he couldgive her the attention that she had claimed.

"You have been hard on me," Grace went on. "But you showed mesome kindness at first; you tried to make them give me a fairhearing. I ask you, as a just man, do you doubt now that thewoman on the sofa in the next room is an impostor who has takenmy place? Can there be any plainer confession that she is MercyMerrick than the confession she has made? _You_ saw it; _they_saw it. She fainted at the sight of me."

Julian crossed the room--still without answering her--and rangthe bell. When the servant appeared, he told the man to fetch acab.

Grace rose from her chair. "What is the cab for?" she asked,sharply.

"For you and for me," Julian replied. "I am going to take youback to your lodgings."

"I refuse to go. My place is in this house. Neither Lady Janetnor you can get over the plain facts. All I asked was to beconfronted with her. And what did she do when she came into theroom? She fainted at the sight of me."

Reiterating her one triumphant assertion, she fixed her eyes onJulian with a look which said plainly: Answer that if you can. Inmercy to her, Julian answered it on the spot.

"As far as I understand," he said, "you appear to take it forgranted that no innocent woma n would have fainted on firstseeing you. I have something to tell you which will alter youropinion. On her arrival in England this lady informed my auntthat she had met with you accidentally on the French frontier,and that she had seen you (so far as she knew) struck dead at herside by a shell. Remember that, and recall what happened justnow. Without a word to warn her of your restoration to life, shefinds herself suddenly face to face with you, a living woman--andthis at a time when it is easy for any one who looks at her tosee that she is in delicate health. What is there wonderful, whatis there unaccountable, in her fainting under such circumstancesas these?"

The question was plainly put. Where was the answer to it?

There was no answer to it. Mercy's wisely candid statement of themanner in which she had first met with Grace, and of the accidentwhich had followed had served Mercy's purpose but too well. Itwas simply impossible for persons acquainted with that statementto attach a guilty meaning to the swoon. The false GraceRoseberry was still as far beyond the reach of suspicion as ever,and the true Grace was quick enough to see it. She sank into thechair from which she had risen; her hands fell in hopelessdespair on her lap.

"Everything is against me," she said. "The truth itself turnsliar, and takes _her_ side." She paused, and rallied her sinkingcourage. "No!" she cried, resolutely, "I won't submit to have myname and my place taken from me by a vile adventuress! Say whatyou like, I insist on exposing her; I won't leave the house!"

The servant entered the room, and announced that the cab was atthe door.

Grace turned to Julian with a defiant wave of her hand. "Don'tlet me detain you," she said. "I see I have neither advice norhelp to expect from Mr. Julian Gray."

Julian beckoned to the servant to follow him into a corner of theroom.

"Do you know if the doctor has been sent for?" he asked.

"I believe not, sir. It is said in the servants' hall that thedoctor is not wanted."

Julian was too anxious to be satisfied with a report from theservants' hall. He hastily wrote on a slip of paper: "Has sherecovered?" and gave the note to the man, with directions to takeit to Lady Janet.

"Did you hear what I said?" Grace inquired, while the messengerwas absent in the dining room.

"I will answer you directly," said Julian.

The servant appeared again as he spoke, with some lines in pencilwritten by Lady Janet on the back of Julian's note. "Thank God,we have revived her. In a few minutes we hope to be able to takeher to her room."

The nearest way to Mercy's room was through the library. Grace'simmediate removal had now become a necessity which was not to betrifled with. Julian addressed himself to meeting the difficultythe instant he was left alone with Grace.

"Listen to me," he said. "The cab is waiting, and I have my lastwords to say to you. You are now (thanks to the consul'srecommendation) in my care. Decide at once whether you willremain under my charge, or whether you will transfer yourself tothe charge of the police."

Grace started. "What do you mean?" she asked, angrily.

"If you wish to remain under my charge," Julian proceeded, "youwill accompany me at once to the cab. In that case I willundertake to give you an opportunity of telling your story to myown lawyer. He will be a fitter person to advise you than I am.Nothing will induce we to believe that the lady whom you haveaccused has committed, or is capable of committing, such a fraudas you charge her with. You will hear what the lawyer thinks, ifyou come with me. If you refuse, I shall have no choice but tosend into the next room, and tell them that you are still here.The result will be that you will find yourself in charge of thepolice. Take which course you like: I will give you a minute todecide in. And remember this--if I appear to express myselfharshly, it is your conduct which forces me to speak out. I meankindly toward you; I am advising you honestly for your good."

He took out his watch to count the minute.

Grace stole one furtive glance at his steady, resolute face. Shewas perfectly unmoved by the manly consideration for her whichJulian's last words had expressed. All she understood was that hewas not a man to be trifled with. Future opportunities wouldoffer themselves of returning secretly to the house. Shedetermined to yield--and deceive him.

"I am ready to go," she said, rising with dogged submission."Your turn now," she muttered to herself, as she turned to thelooking-glass to arrange her shawl. "My turn will come."

Julian advanced toward her, as if to offer her his arm, andchecked himself. Firmly persuaded as he was that her mind wasderanged--readily as he admitted that she claimed, in virtue ofher affliction, every indulgence that he could extend toher--there was something repellent to him at that moment in thebare idea of touching her. The image of the beautiful creaturewho was the object of her monstrous accusation--the image ofMercy as she lay helpless for a moment in his arms--was vivid inhis mind while he opened the door that led into the hall, anddrew back to let Grace pass out before him. He left the servantto help her into the cab. The man respectfully addressed him ashe took his seat opposite to Grace.

"I am ordered to say that your room is ready, sir, and that herladyship expects you to dinner."

Absorbed in the events which had followed his aunt's invitation,Julian had forgotten his engagement to stay at Mablethorpe House.Could he return, knowing his own heart as he now knew it? Couldhe honorably remain, perhaps for weeks together, in Mercy'ssociety, conscious as he now was of the impression which she hadproduced on him? No. The one honorable course that he could takewas to find an excuse for withdrawing from his engagement. "Begher ladyship not to wait dinner for me," he said. "I will writeand make my apologies." The cab drove off. The wondering servantwaited on the doorstep, looking after it. "I wouldn't stand inMr. Julian's shoes for something," he thought, with his mindrunning on the difficulties of the young clergyman's position."There she is along with him in the cab. What is he going to dowith her after that?"

Julian himself, if it had been put to him at the moment, couldnot have answered the question.

--------

Lady Janet's anxiety was far from being relieved when Mercy hadbeen restored to her senses and conducted to her own room.

Mercy's mind remained in a condition of unreasoning alarm, whichit was impossible to remove. Over and over again she was toldthat the woman who had terrified her had left the house, andwould never be permitted to enter it more; over and over againshe was assured that the stranger's frantic assertions wereregarded by everybody about her as unworthy of a moment's seriousattention. She persisted in doubting whether they were tellingher the truth. A shocking distrust of her friends seemed topossess her. She shrunk when Lady Janet approached the bedside.She shuddered when Lady Janet kissed her. She flatly refused tolet Horace see her. She asked the strangest questions aboutJulian Gray, and shook her head suspiciously when they told herthat he was absent from the house. At intervals she hid her facein the bedclothes and murmured to herself piteously, "Oh, whatshall I do? What shall I do?" At other times her one petition wasto be left alone. "I want nobody in my room"--that was her sullencry--"nobody in my room."

The evening advanced, and brought with it no change for thebetter. Lady Janet, by the advice of Horace, sent for her ownmedical adviser.

The doctor shook his head. The symptoms, he said, indicated aserious shock to the nervous system. He wrote a sedativeprescription; and he gave (with a happy choice of language) somesound and safe advice. It amounted briefly to this: "Take heraway, and try the sea-side." Lady Janet's customary energy actedon the advice, without a moment's needless delay. She gave thenecessary directions for packing the trunks overnight, anddecided on leaving Mablethorpe Hous e with Mercy the nextmorning.

Shortly after the doctor had taken his departure a letter fromJulian, addressed to Lady Janet, was delivered by privatemessenger.

Beginning with the necessary apologies for the writer's absence,the letter proceeded in these terms:

"Before I permitted my companion to see the lawyer, I felt thenecessity of consulting him as to my present position toward herfirst.

"I told him--what I think it only right to repeat to you--that Ido not feel justified in acting on my own opinion that her mindis deranged. In the case of this friendless woman I want medicalauthority, and, more even than that, I want some positive proof,to satisfy my conscience as well as to confirm my view.

"Finding me obstinate on this point, the lawyer undertook toconsult a physician accustomed to the treatment of the insane, onmy behalf.

"After sending a message and receiving the answer, he said,'Bring the lady here--in half an hour; she shall tell her storyto the doctor instead of telling it to me.' The proposal ratherstaggered me; I asked how it was possible to induce her to dothat. He laughed, and answered, 'I shall present the doctor as mysenior partner; my senior partner will be the very man to adviseher.' You know that I hate all deception, even where the end inview appears to justify it. On this occasion, however, there wasno other alternative than to let the lawyer take his own course,or to run the risk of a delay which might be followed by seriousresults.

"I waited in a room by myself (feeling very uneasy, I own) untilthe doctor joined me, after the interview was over.

"His opinion is, briefly, this:

"After careful examination of the unfortunate creature, he thinksthat there are unmistakably symptoms of mental aberration. Buthow far the mischief has gone, and whether her case is, or isnot, sufficiently grave to render actual restraint necessary, hecannot positively say, in our present state of ignorance as tofacts.

"'Thus far,' he observed, 'we know nothing of that part of herdelusion which relates to Mercy Merrick. The solution of thedifficulty, in this case, is to be found there. I entirely agreewith the lady that the inquiries of the consul at Mannheim arefar from being conclusive. Furnish me with satisfactory evidenceeither that there is, or is not, such a person really inexistence as Mercy Merrick, and I will give you a positiveopinion on the case whenever you choose to ask for it.'

"Those words have decided me on starting for the Continent andrenewing the search for Mercy Merrick.

"My friend the lawyer wonders jocosely whether _I_ am in my rightsenses. His advice is that I should apply to the nearestmagistrate, and relieve you and myself of all further trouble inthat way.

"Perhaps you agree with him? My dear aunt (as you have oftensaid), I do nothing like other people. I am interested in thiscase. I cannot abandon a forlorn woman who has been confided tome to the tender mercies of strangers, so long as there is anyhope of my making discoveries which may be instrumental inrestoring her to herself--perhaps, also, in restoring her to herfriends.

"I start by the mail-train of to-night. My plan is to go first toMannheim and consult with the consul and the hospital doctors;then to find my way to the German surgeon and to question _him_;and, that done, to make the last and hardest effort of all--theeffort to trace the French ambulance and to penetrate the mysteryof Mercy Merrick.

"Immediately on my return I will wait on you, and tell you what Ihave accomplished, or how I have failed.

"In the meanwhile, pray be under no alarm about the reappearanceof this unhappy woman at your house. She is fully occupied inwriting (at my suggestion) to her friends in Canada; and she isunder the care of the landlady at her lodgings--an experiencedand trustworthy person, who has satisfied the doctor as well asmyself of her fitness for the charge that she has undertaken.

"Pray mention this to Miss Roseberry (whenever you think itdesirable), with the respectful expression of my sympathy, and ofmy best wishes for her speedy restoration to health. And oncemore forgive me for failing, under stress of necessity, to enjoythe hospitality of Mablethorpe House."

Lady Janet closed Julian's letter, feeling far from satisfiedwith it. She sat for a while, pondering over what her nephew hadwritten to her.

"One of two things," thought the quick-witted old lady. "Eitherthe lawyer is right, and Julian is a fit companion for themadwoman whom he has taken under his charge, or he has somesecond motive for this absurd journey of his which he hascarefully abstained from mentioning in his letter. What can themotive be?"

At intervals during the night that question recurred to herladyship again and again. The utmost exercise of her ingenuityfailing to answer it, her one resource left was to wait patientlyfor Julian's return, and, in her own favorite phrase, to "have itout of him" then.

The next morning Lady Janet and her adopted daughter leftMablethorpe House for Brighton; Horace (who had begged to beallowed to accompany them) being sentenced to remain in London byMercy's express desire. Why--nobody could guess; and Mercyrefused to say.