"Mr. Errol," she faltered, "my husband--does he know?"

"Yes, he knows." Very softly Nap made answer, as though he were soothing
a child. "Don't trouble about that. Don't trouble about anything. Just
lie still and rest."

But the anxiety in her eyes was growing. "He isn't here?" she questioned.

"No."

"Then--then I think I ought to go to him. He will think it so strange. He
will--he will--"

"Lady Carfax, listen!" Quietly but insistently he broke in upon her
rising agitation. "Your husband knows all about you. He couldn't come
to-night, but he is coming in the morning. Now won't you be content and
try to sleep?"

"I can't sleep," she said, with a shudder. "I am afraid of falling."

"No, you're not. See! I am holding your hands. You can't fall. Look at
me! Keep looking at me and you will see how safe you are!"

His voice had sunk almost to a whisper. His eyes dusky, compelling, yet
strangely impersonal, held hers by some magic that was too utterly
intangible to frighten her. With a sigh she yielded to the mastery she
scarcely felt.

And as she floated away into a peace indescribable, unlike anything
she had ever known before, she heard a woman's voice, hushed to a