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The Tigress

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CHAPTER XXVIII
Incarnate or Reincarnate

Nina saw him first; for she was facing that way. Most women would have screamed; she only became rigid. It was the situation in the Umballa bungalow over again – save that there was no pistol at hand, and Andrews knew now that the cobra was made of bronze.

Nina became rigid; Gerald sensed the unexpected. He looked over his shoulder and caught the glare of Kneedrock's eyes piercing the gloomy half-light.

They weren't sane eyes. He saw that at once. And a creepy shiver ran along his spine.

Nina's rigidity gave way to trembling, and all in the brief space of two seconds at the most – two seconds that were as taut as a fiddle-string.

Then the staghound sprang up, snarling, his fangs bared, and the hair along his back bristling. But he didn't spring. He pressed close against Nina's legs and cowered as though he had seen a ghost.

And then Kneedrock laughed. It was the very last thing that they expected, and the strain tightened to the point of snapping.

Because of everything – the whole wretched ensemble – the laugh seemed wilder, madder, weirder, possibly, than it was. It broke off in a sort of choking gurgle, and in a flash the laugher had wheeled about and was swallowed up in the murk of the passage.

This only, probably, could have aroused Nina to action. Swiftly as light itself she sped after him with an imploring cry of:

"Hal! Hal!"

Andrews, too, pulled himself together – shook himself free, as it were, of the dread, deathlike inertia that had held him passive and followed to the room door. And there Nina's voice came back to him from the lighted entrance-hall.

"You mustn't go! You must not! I want to see you. I want to make it all clear."

"It's clear enough as it is," he heard Kneedrock say. "Infernally clear, and – funny. You'd try to take the fun out of it. I know what you'd do. I always know what you'd do. You've never fooled me yet. That's because I never let you shut my eyes with your kisses – because I'm strong enough to keep you out of my arms."

There was silence for the briefest moment, and it was Kneedrock's voice that resumed: "Keep your hands off me. Good Lord, if there's one thing I fear it's your velvet paws! I've seen the sharp claws too often. For God's sake, Nina, keep them off, I say!"

"You'll come back?" she pleaded.

"I'll come back if you won't touch me."

"But your mackintosh is dripping, and your hat. Give them to me."

Andrews heard their steps approaching and withdrew from the doorway. He wished to avoid the madman, yet feared to leave Nina alone with him.

Then he noticed that Tara was still in the room – on guard, as it were – and seeing a connecting door ajar, he slipped through it, closing it after him.

The staghound snarled again as Nibbetts returned; but at a word from Nina he retreated and lay down, stretched at full length, his watchful eyes still fixed, however, on the viscount, who took a stand before the fireplace, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his morning coat, and his gaze on the floor.

Nina chose the end of a couch, and faced him over its piled pillows, on which, half-reclining, she rested her arms. To her own amazement, now that she was with him alone, all her fear had gone. Her poise and address were perfect.

Yet the change that had been wrought in him since the Monday she parted from him at Bellingdown struck her to the heart.

He must have lost twenty pounds in weight. His clothes, then so well-fitting, hung on his almost gaunt frame. His cheeks were hollow, and his eyes gleamed with that odd, lurid, uncanny light from deepening sockets.

"If I had known you came to Bath I should surely have seen you," she said.

"They told me you saw no one," he returned, "and yet you had your lover there at that moment."

"You know I have no lover – that I never have had."

"Why quibble over terms?" he asked. "I saw you in his arms in India. I saw you in his arms to-day. That's enough for me."

"He did me a great service," she tried to explain. "I didn't even know he was in Bath. It was my surgeon who brought him. He gave the skin that restored my poor burned face."

Her visitor chuckled cynically.

"You hadn't any poor burned face at Umballa," he sneered. "What had he sacrificed there?"

"His happiness, his faith in women, for my idle amusement."

"One of a thousand," he muttered. "You were never so considerate of the rest."

"I'm not altogether without heart."

"You amaze me."

"It's you who are heartless. You could save us both."

He looked at her then for the first time since they had come in. "Save us both?" he queried. "From what, pray?"

"From wretchedness. I've never been loved as I want to be. And you – you won't let me – "

"Good God!" he caught her up suddenly. "I didn't come here for that! Keep your tongue off me, Nina, as well as your hands, or – I'll cut it!"

She stretched herself farther across the pillows. "Make everything right," she pleaded earnestly, ignoring his rebuke. "Marry me over again – acknowledge me – be my husband in fact – as you've always been legally – just for a year."

Her voice was low, but thrilling in its eagerness of appeal. And in the dining-room, with ear close to the door, guarding her against a sudden outbreak from her unbalanced companion, Andrews heard all – every uttered word – and understood.

He had imagined it from her words the night before. But now, unwittingly, she had made it plain. What Kneedrock had told Carleigh was true.

Nina was his wife – the wife of his youth – and her marriage with Colonel Darling had been bigamy, committed in ignorance of the truth.

Lord Kneedrock stood motionless and silent. Again his eyes – those eyes so strangely changed – were bent upon the rug at his feet.

And the woman went on: "Just for a year, Hal. That's all. And if I'm not a good wife – if I look aside even a hair's breadth – you may kill me, or I'll kill myself when you give the word."

Then the man before the fireplace seemed to rouse himself out of a dream. There was no question that her entreaty had held him. It had indeed touched the depths of him.

In his mentally dulled state, such a culmination as she begged for had seemed not only desirable, but possible.

But now, all at once, there had floated back a memory of another face and another voice – a face and a voice too recently seen and heard to be quite clouded and hushed by the present.

Figuratively he shook himself, drew his hands from his pockets, lifted his tawny head, and turned upon her his unfamiliar eyes.

"Very, very pretty," he sneered cruelly. "But it's too late. I've another love – all my own, too, and not tarnished and worn thin by general use. You're no wife of mine – remember that – you sacrificed all claim. Besides, you're – you're – "

The blood was pounding in his neck, and he paused to jerk at his collar in an effort to free his throat.

"You're not a woman," he went on scornfully. "You're only half woman. You're other half tigress. Oh, I know you. I've been reading up on your breed, and I've met a few in my time. Lately I've been looking over some at the Zoo. And when all's said and done, I prefer the incarnate to the reincarnate." He stepped back a pace and viewed her appraisingly.

As she half-sat, half-lay there on the cushioned couch, all her lithe length stretched in beautiful outline, there was indeed a suggestion of the grace of the cat tribe at rest, long, sinuous, lazy. And to Kneedrock's obsessed vision this became more than a suggestion, more than a similarity.

"By gad," he exclaimed, "I've seen my old girl in her cage just like that, only a thousand times more beautiful! And she's safe, too! That's the best of it. She only gets what's fed to her. Pity you weren't barred up while you were a cub.

"I go there just to see her eat. She has your table manners to a dot. It's very amusing to me to see her claws come out of their silken sheaths, and clutch and tear, and her teeth rend, while her lips seem to run blood.

"Beautiful exhibition, I can tell you. Wouldn't miss it for a bag of sovereigns. 'Ah,' I say, 'there's Nina over again!' Only Nina gets 'em alive, and goes for their hearts first. That's her special titbit. Man-eater, is Nina! Nothing else satisfies her."

Nina buried her face in her arms, and her body quivered. For a little she had almost fancied him unchanged. But there was no question now. He had railed at her before. But never like this. The idea seemed to carry him away. He went on, repeating himself, growing more impassioned with each outburst.

Finally he jerked out his watch and glanced at it hurriedly.

"Haven't a minute to spare. They feed her at three – three sharp now. Winter schedule's on, you know."

But Nina didn't move. Her body had ceased to quiver. She lay as one dead. Kneedrock's tirade, reasonless, rhymeless, with its seemingly endless iteration and reiteration of ideas, phrases, words; all combining to form one great outpouring volume of contemptuous, reproachful, mad rebuke, had stunned her – deafened her.

Andrews, listening, heard the abrupt break from harangue to expressed purpose, and noted that there was, from his companion, no response. It was not his desire to disturb Nina, nor to again show himself to Kneedrock.

From the dining-room he sought the servants' quarters, and directed the housemaid to go at once to the drawing-room with the caller's mackintosh and hat, lest by some quick mental switch the madman revert to the subject of his mania and forget his intention of departure.

As it happened, the girl met the viscount in the passage. He accepted his proffered apparel without so much as a word, brushed past her, hurried through the entrance-hall, and was gone – forgetting even to close the door.

 

It seemed that the impulse to visit the tiger-house, once awakened, was as irresistible as the tides of ocean.

Andrews, having heard the maid close the door, went at once to Mrs. Darling. She recognized his step, and looked up in pleased surprise.

"You here still? I am so glad."

"Did you think I could leave you with him – alone?" he asked.

"But your business?"

"My business can wait. You needed me."

She gave him her hand.

"I am sick to my very soul," she said miserably. "I have abased myself and been kicked in the face."

"But he is not responsible," he reminded her; "you know that. I can conceive of nothing more pitiable."

She straightened herself, sitting erect.

"I know it. For just a little I thought only of myself. Something must be done. But what? I feel so helpless."

"He'll probably be refused admission to the gardens," said Andrews.

"Then he's sure to make trouble," Nina declared. "There will be a scene and exposure. He may be hurt, too."

"Why not try the sphinx solicitor yourself? I'll go with you."

She sprang up at that.

"It's the only way," she agreed. "He must do something. I'll make him do something."

Five minutes later they were in a taxicab together, rolling through the rain to Fleet Street. Arrived at the Inner Temple, old Mr. Widdicombe received Nina with chilling politeness. She was painfully nervous and obviously distressed.

"I've come about Lord Kneedrock," she said, fingering her handkerchief. "Have you seen him recently?"

Mr. Widdicombe nodded. "I have, Mrs. Darling," he said.

"How recently?"

"Within the month."

"Did you observe anything singular in his manner? Did he appear – "

"His manner has always been more or less singular."

"Did he appear less rational than usual, I mean?" she persisted.

"He was quite rational. Quite so."

"Well, he isn't now," said Nina bluntly. "He's quite the reverse. It may be simply a nervous disorder – I sincerely trust so – but he appears to be mad."

Mr. Widdicombe rubbed together his lean hands.

"You sent me that message this morning," he reminded her. "His lordship was then in my office."

"Here – then?" Her surprise was manifest.

"In an inner room. The door was ajar, and I fancy he heard every word of your messenger's statement."

"Is that what you meant by 'within the month'?" She felt somehow that she had been trapped.

"This morning was within the month. I made a statement of fact, did I not?"

His skin was like yellow parchment, crisscrossed with incised lines. Those at the sides of his mouth moved outward, which was as near as Lord Kneedrock's solicitor ever came to a smile.

Nina sprang to her feet in a rage. "You are quite impossible, Mr. Widdicombe!" she flared. "There are none so blind as those that won't see. I came to you for assistance, and you treat the matter – the very grave matter – as though it were a joke."

"I treat all matters just as I find them, Mrs. Darling," was his calm retort.

"Viscount Kneedrock is mad," she affirmed, mincing the manifest fact no longer.

The solicitor bowed.

"If so, I deplore it," he said; "but he has had quite enough in his life to make him so."

Upon Nina the veiled allusion was not lost.

"That is neither here nor there," she rejoined sharply. "We are only losing time in discussion. He must be saved from himself, whatever the cost."

Again there appeared that makeshift for a smile.

"If you had only thought of that sooner, Mrs. Darling," he murmured.

"I did not come here for your recriminations. I came for your aid," was her reply. "Will you come to Regent's Park and use your influence?"

But Mr. Widdicombe shook his head with some emphasis.

"Certainly not. I have no influence to use. I am a solicitor – neither an alienist nor a wet-nurse." He bowed for the third time. "I have the honor to bid you a very good morning."

Nina, in a state between rage and despair, rejoined Gerald Andrews in the visitors' room.

"He is a beast!" she said with trembling voice. "An abominable old boor! There is but one thing left for us to do. We must go alone, and pray God we are not too late to avert trouble."

They made all the haste possible, assisted and abetted by a well-driven taxicab with a fairly good engine. But they were too late to avert trouble, nevertheless.

There had been a disturbance in the tiger-house, and Lord Kneedrock had been seriously, perhaps mortally, injured.

CHAPTER XXIX
The Mantle of Heroism

It was generally conceded that the Earl of Dumphreys was eccentric. He was an ardent disciple of Tolstoy, and lived on his estate in the North in the simplest fashion, unshaven and unshorn, and affecting coarse girdled robes and sandals.

Despite his titles and his lands, he was as much out of the world as though he rested with his sires beneath the gray stones of Dumphreys Abbey.

"Of course," said Nina, her face drawn, "we must wire at once for the earl."

They were gathered in Kneedrock's suite in St. James's Square – the duke and his duchess, Lord and Lady Bellingdown – who had chanced to be in town – and Nina and Gerald Andrews, the latter a veritable tower of strength in emergency from the very first.

It was the morning following the episode at the Zoölogical Gardens, and the fate of poor Nibbetts hung, figuratively, on a cobweb.

"Much good it will do to send for the earl," returned the duke a little testily. "He wouldn't come to town for the king's funeral, and he won't come to stand at his only son's death-bed. Why, when Nibbetts went down to see him after his return from the South Seas the earl wouldn't admit him. I know that. Don't we know that, Doody?"

The duchess wiped her eyes, and nodded.

"Unnatural old beggar!" added the duke.

"Still," persisted Nina, "I think we should wire him."

"Do as you please," he granted; "but he won't come. He never comes. Hasn't put foot off his own lands in twenty years. If there was anything wrong with Nibbetts's brain it was hereditary."

"There wasn't anything wrong with it," Nina declared warmly. For eighteen hours she had been trying to convince herself there wasn't. "It was just his way."

"But it wasn't his way at all," contradicted his grace. "That's just the point. Nibbetts never did play the fool before, even for a purpose. He was too jolly indifferent."

"It's my opinion," put in Donty Down, "that he's been having trouble over that girl in Dundee."

"Nibbetts wouldn't let any girl make trouble for him," persisted the duke. "I say he's too indifferent."

"I am going to wire the earl," said Nina in an effort to quench the dispute.

"He won't come. I tell you he won't come. You try it and see," the duke flung after her as he crossed to the door.

In the adjoining room she encountered Andrews, and gave him the message. The experience had brought them very close together – closer than ever before – and the man had proved himself.

There had been great difficulty when they reached the gardens on the preceding afternoon to ascertain the facts. The guards evidently had been instructed by the management to hush the matter up.

Each and all professed entire ignorance. There had been some disturbance, but beyond that they knew nothing whatever. And the police were almost equally uncommunicative.

From a visitor, however, Andrews had learned that the scene of the affair was the tiger-house, and that a gentleman had been probably fatally injured.

More than that, his informant, who had seen the gentleman carried out, gave so graphic a description of the victim that, taking all the circumstances into consideration, there could be no doubt it was Kneedrock.

As temperately as possible Andrews had passed these tidings on to Mrs. Darling.

"And now," he said, "you'd best go home at once, since nothing can be gained by your stopping here. I'll get what additional facts I can, and follow as soon as possible."

With which he had put her again into the taxicab, and hurried back to intercept other visitors.

But the narratives, formed most of them from hearsay, were contradictory and confusing, and it was not until by sheer accident he ran into the identical guard he had interviewed in the morning that he obtained a veracious and circumstantial story of what had happened.

The tiger-house, owing to the accident, had been closed for the rest of the day; and this guard, whose name was Phipps, was among those relieved from duty.

With a warning finger, to indicate the seal of secrecy that was upon him while within the grounds, he led his inquirer out through the south gate, and directed his steps thence to the nearest public house, where over a pint of half-and-half, for which Andrews was but too glad to pay, he told his tale.

"It was a most un'appy business, sir," he began – "a most un'appy business; an' no one as I sees to blaime for it, either. It was like this, sir: 'E comes in – the gentleman we was speakink of this mornin', sir – an' str'ight 'e goes for the caige of the big Bengal tigress, just as usual, sir.

"I was displeased to see 'im back again. I was that, sir. For, as I said, I felt sooner or laiter there'd trouble come of 'is 'auntink the plaice. It 'appened, though, sir, the day bein' wettish, there wasn't more'n a 'andful of wisitors in the 'ouse, an' 'e speaks 'is little piece to the old Bengal gal without attractink much attention.

"I'm keepink me eye on 'im the while, you may be sure, sir. An' I see 'im leanink as far over the r'il as 'e can stretch, sir – smilink and laughink in 'is hodd, queer waiy; quiet enough, sir, but a bit creepy, all the saime.

"An' then, sir, I see the tigress stop 'er pacink, an' she draws up close to the bars, rubbink 'er sleek sides against 'em, while 'er eyes narrow, sleepylike, an' she begins purrink like as she was a great big babblink brook, sir. You could 'ear it all over the 'ouse; an' it wasn't in reason it shouldn't attrack attention, sir."

He paused to lift his pot of half-and-half, and Andrews sipped his whisky and water.

"A crowd began to gather," Phipps went on, "an' I see as 'ow it was time I was takink a 'and. So hup I steps, an' politely I says: 'Would you move on, kindly, sir?' 'E was a gentleman, sir, that 'e was. 'E never so much as looks round at me, but 'e moves on without a word.

"The crowd thins out after a minute or so, an', as I don't see 'im comink back, I turns awaiy to answer a wisitor wot wanted to be shown the American pumas, an' told about their 'abits.

"It's a fac', sir, as 'ow I'm uncommon interested in pumas, an' I clear forgot to be lookink after old Miss Bengal an' 'er gentleman admirer. So 'ow it 'appened I didn't see. But Jenkison says – 'e's the guard as 'as the other side, sir – that some'ow the two kiddies got separated, an' one – "

"The two kiddies?" Andrews interrupted. "I didn't know – "

"Yes, sir. There was two of 'em, sir. Two little girls – six an' seven, I should saiy, sir. One, runnink on a'ead, tripped an' fell an' let out a cry. She was the youngest, an' 'er mother, quite forgettink the other, runs after 'er to pick 'er up an' kiss the spot.

"Jenkison 'ad 'er up first, though, an' – 'e's a married man, is Jenkison, with little uns of 'is own – 'e was a soothink of 'er an' never lookink be'ind. You see, sir, it must 'a' been that it was then that the other got under the r'il an' begun climbink."

"Began climbing!" Andrews exclaimed. "Do you mean to say a child of seven – a girl – dared to climb up – "

"She did, sir. An' not a soul seeink her, either. It was the purrink of the tigress that did it, sir. That's what I think, sir. The kiddie 'ad a little pussy at 'ome, I dare say, sir, that purred when it was pleased, an' the tigress's purrink took all fear out of the little un. She wanted to pat Miss Bengal, an' – "

"Good God!" cried his listener. "She wasn't killed?"

"No fault of 'ers she wasn't, poor child!" Phipps answered. "I 'eard 'er scream. Jenkison, 'e 'eard 'er, too. An' there was no mistakink what it meant.

"We ran, an' so did the rest of the guards; but none of us 'ad a chance of gettink to 'er in time. The beast 'ad 'er by 'er little shoulder, and was draggink 'er between the bars even before the gentleman got there. An' 'e was the first that saw."

"He saved her!" breathed Andrews tremulously. "Lord Kneedrock saved her!"

 

The guard started in surprise. "Was that 'im?" he asked.

"Didn't you know? I thought – "

"I 'eard 'e was a wi'count, sir. But I never imagined 'e was – "

"Yes, yes!" the other interrupted. "What did he do? What happened?"

"'E was over the r'il like a shot, sir, talkink as 'e went. I never see the like before. The sound of 'is voice was as magic to the beast. She let the little un go at once; drew back an' – I give you my word, sir – begun purrink again.

"The rest of us just stood an' watched. The kiddie, you see, sir, 'ad fainted. 'Er body was on the floor of the caige, an' 'er little legs 'angink out. It was a most 'orrible moment, sir. I'd 'a' shot the brute then an' there, but I couldn't get a fair range by reason of the gentleman – 'is lordship – beink in the way; an' to miss would 'a' been sure death for the little un.

"Seeink as 'ow 'er arms was stretched, there was no chance of pulling 'er out by her feet, either. I saw that in a second, sir. 'Is lordship saw it, too. For 'e started to drag 'er that way – croonink like to the beast the while – an' then, of a sudden, 'e stopped.

"The next instant 'is arms was between the bars, an' 'e was drawink the little gal's 'ands down to 'er sides. An' there that Miss Bengal stood, watchink. I know the cat tribe pretty well, I do, sir; an' it was me as was watchink 'er while she watched 'im.

"She seemed as gentle as a kitten; but they're sly beasts, the cats is, an' not to be trusted second by second. Sometimes their tails give warnink, sir, an' often as not there's no warnink at all. There wasn't any with 'er to-day, sir. I saw it all an' there wasn't an eye-wink to act in.

"'E got the little un all out but 'er shoulders an' 'ead, an' 'e was easink 'er over a bit on 'er side for to get 'er shoulders between the bars, one of 'is arms inside an' one out, when it 'appened. The brute was on 'im in a flash. She caught 'is arm between 'er two great paws, sir, an' buried 'er teeth in it before you could see she 'ad moved.

"Yes, sir. She was quicker than any hye that belongs to man. But 'e'd turned the little girl over enough so that 'er weight was most outside, an' – no, sir, no one lent a 'and; no one 'ad time an' none was needed. The kiddie dropped clear and free."

"And – and he was fast?"

"Only for a minute, sir. Some one picked up the little girl, an' I jumped for'ard. Miss Bengal was close enough then for a sure slantin' aim, an' I took it str'ight between the bars. Three bullets in 'er 'ed, sir.

"But you'd never believe what she did to that poor arm of 'is lordship, sir. It was 'orrible, sir. 'Orrible, that's all I say."

That was the guard's story, simple and truthful, with its bare, meager comment; but a story of real heroism, nevertheless. And it was this feature of it that Gerald Andrews had carried back to Nina Darling in her Mayfair flat, where for the longest of long hours she had been awaiting him.

And now, as they stood together again in the suite in St. James's Square, it seemed to them both that weeks, rather than less than a day, had passed since that dread yet vital moment of yesterday.

"His father must come, Gerald," she said, "if we can possibly get him here. Word the wire as you please, but make it plain that he ventured his life for a little child. And sign it 'Nina.'"

Then she gave him the address and was hurrying him away when she checked him at the last moment to seek reassurance.

"Madmen don't do heroic deeds, do they, Gerald?"

"No, Nina," he declared. "They certainly do not. They do brutal deeds, rather."

"He was eccentric, like the earl. That was all."

"He was nothing more. You may be sure he was nothing more." And he was all the while forcing himself to believe it – for her sake.

When he was gone Nina shut herself up in what Kneedrock had chosen to call his "office." In her tense state the chatter of those in the little drawing-room was well-nigh unbearable.

The duke especially tortured her nerves to snapping. The tears of the duchess were contagious. And, despite the occasion, Lady Bellingdown and her lord were constantly bickering.

The mangled arm of poor Nibbetts had been amputated, of course. That was imperative. And the shock of the operation, following the shock of the accident, and coupled with an extraordinary loss of blood, had proved too much for a constitution already depleted.

From the first the surgeons and doctors had given them little hope. He had barely one chance in a hundred, they said; and recovery would be little short of a miracle. Since early morning he had been sinking despite every effort to rally his forces.

It was possible that before death came there would be a faint flare of energy, perhaps a brief moment of consciousness; but the chances favored a continuous coma.

"Even if the earl should come now," mused Nina, "I fear he will be too late. But it was my duty to send; and I've done it."

She moved restlessly about the little room. She sat on one chair and then on another. She stood for a time peering out between the drawn curtains. She picked up books, turned the pages, read lines, without understanding.

After a little she paused beside a writing-table that occupied a corner and began handling the moveable things that rested upon it – a small, framed calendar, certain dates on which she found ringed with black ink and others with red; a clock, which had stopped at twenty-two minutes to four, a box of postage stamps, pens, quills, a silver knife.

Thrust into a corner of the green blotting-pad was a sealed and stamped letter, ready for the post. Absently, without motive, she extracted it and glanced at the superscription.

The hand was his, Nibbetts's, and the fact startled and chilled her. In all probability he would never write again. And then something else caught her consciousness: "Dundee, Scotland." And at the same instant: "Miss Agnes Scripps."

Scripps! The name he had used to hide behind when he came to Umballa. The name which – she had always felt sure, though she never knew – he had gone by in Tahiti and the other islands of the South Pacific where he had spent his exile.

What did it mean? Who? What? A score of questions, scores of conjectures, assumptions, suppositions assailed her like an army.

For the moment she was absorbed, lost in a maze of the possible and the impossible; from which a knocking, thrice repeated, upon the room door caught her back with a start. It was a nurse, who said:

"Lord Kneedrock is conscious."

She went, at once glad and full of dread, to find all the rest there before her.

"He has recognized each of us," whispered the duke. "But he hasn't spoken."

The duchess, with her handkerchief pressed to her face, was vainly trying to suppress her sobs. Lord Bellingdown was clasping the sufferer's remaining hand and murmuring: "Good old Nibbetts!"

("You might have thought the poor chap was a dog," said Lady Bellingdown when she related it to Lord Waltheof in the privacy of her own home the next day.)

Nina drew near on the other side of the bed. There was very little light in the room, but Kneedrock seemed to note her presence instantly. His head didn't move – he was too weak for that – but his eyes turned to her. And she read the look in them. They beckoned. He wished to say something.

She leaned toward him, and his pale lips moved. There wasn't a sound though, not the faintest. Then Nina sat down softly on the side of the bed and bent her head until her ear felt his breath.

And on the breath came words – one word to each exhalation – faint, but quite audible:

"Don't – reproach – yourself. – I – wish – I'd – been – kinder."

Before it was finished her control was quite gone, and her salt tears were dropping, raining, from her face onto his.

Some one led her away. It may have been the duke, or Bellingdown, or one of the doctors. She never knew. Whoever it was took her to a lounge in the drawing-room, where she lay prostrate for a long time. When at length she sat up it was to find Gerald Andrews beside her.

"He is gone?" she asked.

"He is gone," he answered simply.

Late that afternoon a telegram was brought to her. It was from his father, and it read:

At the bottom of every man's soul there is a noble spark that may make a hero of him; but the spark cannot burn brightly all the time. When the critical moment arrives it flares up and illumines great deeds.

Some one said afterward that it was a quotation from Tolstoy, which may be true. But Nina wasn't interested in its authorship.