could understand even then—­the fright, added to that which had gone before, which my appearance must have evoked.  I had still on the respirator, which covered mouth and nose; my hair had been tossed in my sleep.  Coming suddenly forward, thus enwrapped and dishevelled, in that horrified crowd, I must have had, in the strange mixture of lights, an extraordinary and terrifying appearance.  It was well that I recognised all this in time to avert another catastrophe; for the half-dazed, mechanically-acting Detective put in the cartridges and had raised his revolver to shoot at me when I succeeded in wrenching off the respirator and shouting to him to hold his hand.  In this also he acted mechanically; the red, half-awake eyes had not in them even then the intention of conscious action.  The danger, however, was averted.  The relief of the situation, strangely enough, came in a simple fashion.  Mrs. Grant, seeing that her young mistress had on only her nightdress, had gone to fetch a dressing-gown, which she now threw over her.  This simple act brought us all back to the region of fact.  With a long breath, one and all seemed to devote themselves to the most pressing matter before us, that of staunching the flow of blood from the arm of the wounded man.  Even as the thought of action came, I rejoiced; for the bleeding was very proof that Mr. Trelawny still lived.

Last night’s lesson was not thrown away.  More than one of those present knew now what to do in such an emergency, and within a few seconds willing hands were at work on a tourniquet.  A man was at once despatched for the doctor, and several of the servants disappeared to make themselves respectable.  We lifted Mr. Trelawny on to the sofa where he had lain yesterday; and, having done what we could for him, turned our attention to the Nurse.  In all the turmoil she had not stirred; she sat there as before, erect and rigid, breathing softly and naturally and with a placid smile.  As it was manifestly of no use to attempt anything with her till the doctor had come, we began to think of the general situation.

Mrs. Grant had by this time taken her mistress away and changed her clothes; for she was back presently in a dressing-gown and slippers, and with the traces of blood removed from her hands.  She was now much calmer, though she trembled sadly; and her face was ghastly white.  When she had looked at her father’s wrist, I holding the tourniquet, she turned her eyes round the room, resting them now and again on each one of us present in turn, but seeming to find no comfort.  It was so apparent to me that she did not know where to begin or whom to trust that, to reassure her, I said: 

“I am all right now; I was only asleep.”  Her voice had a gulp in it as she said in a low voice: 

“Asleep!  You! and my Father in danger!  I thought you were on the watch!” I felt the sting of justice in the reproach; but I really wanted to help her, so I answered: