Fear pierced her, sharp as the thrust of a knife.  She freed herself from Fielding’s grip, and knelt beside the silent form.  For many awful seconds she watched and listened, not breathing.

“Is she gone?” asked Fielding in a hoarse whisper at last.

She looked up at him.  “Get brandy—­hot bottles—­quick!  Send Dick—­he’s in the conservatory.  No, stay!  Send Saltash!  He’s there too.  He’ll know where to find things.  Tell Dick to come here!  Have you sent for a doctor?”

“There’s been no one to send,” he answered frantically.  “Some man helped to bring her in here, but she didn’t faint till after we got in, and then I couldn’t leave her.  He went off to look after the crowd going round the Castle.”

“All right,” Juliet said.  “Lord Saltash will see to that.  Ask them to come in!”

She was unfastening the filmy gown with steady fingers.  Whatever the dread at her heart there was no sign of it apparent in her bearing.  She moved without haste or agitation.

At a touch on her shoulder she looked up and saw Dick at her side.  “Ah, there you are!” she said.  “We want a doctor.  Will you see to it?  No doubt there’s a telephone somewhere.  Ask Lord Saltash!”

“In the gun-room,” said Saltash.  “Door next to this on the left.  Name of Rossiter.  Shall I see to it?”

“No—­no,” she said.  “You get some brandy, please—­at once!”

They obeyed her orders with promptitude.  Dick went straight from the room.  Saltash turned to the fireplace, and pressed an electric bell three times very emphatically.

Then he came to Juliet’s side.  “You ought to lay her flat, Juliette.  I know this sort of seizure.  Heart of course!  My mother died of it.”

“Help me to lift her!” said Juliet.

They raised her between them with infinite care and flattened the cushions beneath her.  Then Saltash, his queer face full of the most earnest concern began to chafe one of the nerveless hands.

Fielding tramped ceaselessly up and down the room, his head on his chest.  Every time he drew near his wife he glanced at her and swung away again, as one without hope.

After a brief interval the door opened to admit a silent footed butler bearing a tray.  Saltash turned upon him swiftly.

“Brandy, Billings?  That’s right.  And look here!  Find Mrs. Parsons!  Tell her a lady has been taken ill in the library!  She had better get a bed ready, and have some boiling water handy.  Anything else?” He looked at Juliet.

She shook her head.  “No, nothing till the doctor comes.  I hope he won’t be long.”

Saltash poured out some brandy.  Fielding came to a standstill behind Juliet, and stood looking on.

“We won’t lift her again,” whispered Juliet.  “Try a spoon!”

He gave it to her, and she slipped it between the white lips.  But there was no sign of life, no attempt to swallow.