"Madge—Miss Frettlby," he faltered.
"Is very ill," replied the doctor; "has an attack of brain fever. I can't answer for the consequences yet."
Brian sat down on the sofa and stared at the doctor in a dazed sort of a way. Madge dangerously ill—perhaps dying. What if she did die, and he lost the true-hearted woman who stood so nobly by him in his trouble?
"Cheer up," said Chinston, patting him on the shoulder; "while there's life there's hope, and whatever human aid can do to save her will be done."
Brian grasped the doctor's hand in silence, his heart being too full to speak.
"How did Frettlby die?" asked Calton.
"Heart disease," said Chinston. "His heart was very much affected, as I discovered a week or so ago. It appears he was walking in his sleep, and, entering the drawing-room, he alarmed Miss Frettlby, who screamed, and must have touched him. He awoke suddenly, and the natural consequence followed—he dropped down dead."
"What alarmed Miss Frettlby?" asked Brian, in a low voice, covering his face with his hand.
"The sight of her father walking in his sleep, I suppose," said Chinston, buttoning his glove; "and the shock of his death, which took place indirectly through her, accounts for the brain fever."
"Madge Frettlby is not the woman to scream and waken a somnambulist," said Calton, decidedly, "knowing, as she did, the danger. There must be some other reason."
"This young woman will tell you all about it," said Chinston, nodding toward Sal, who entered the room at this moment. "She was present, and since then has managed things admirably; and now I must go. Keep up your heart, my boy; I'll pull her through yet."
After the doctor had gone, Calton turned sharply to Sal Rawlins, who stood waiting to be addressed.
"Well," he said briskly, "can you tell us what startled Miss Frettleby?"
"I can, sir," she answered quietly. "I was in the drawing-room when Mr. Frettlby died; but—we had better go up to the study."
"Why?" asked Calton, in surprise, as he and Fitzgerald followed her up stairs.
