“She is dead!” said Fielding heavily.

Saltash glanced at him.  “I think not,” he said gently.  “I’m nearly certain I felt her pulse move just now.”

The door opened again, and Dick entered.  He went straight to the squire, and put his arm round his bent shoulders.  “There’ll be a doctor here in ten minutes,” he said.

Fielding seemed barely to hear the words.  “Do you think she’ll ever speak again, Dick?” he said.

“Please God she will, sir,” said Dick very steadily.

He kept his arm round Fielding, and in a few moments succeeded in drawing him aside.  He put him into a chair by the table, poured out some brandy and water, and made him drink it.  Looking up a moment later, he found Saltash’s odd eyes curiously upon him.  He returned the look with a conscious sense of antagonism, but Saltash almost immediately turned away.

There followed what seemed an interminable space of waiting, during which no change of any sort was apparent in the silent figure on the settee.  The blatant bray of the band still sounded in the distance with a flaunting gaiety almost intolerable to those who waited.  Saltash frowned as he heard it, but he did not stir from Juliet’s side.

Then, after an eternity of suspense, the sombre-faced butler opened the door again and ushered in the doctor.  Saltash went to meet him and brought him to the settee.  Fielding got up and came forward.

Dick stood for a moment, then turned and went back to the conservatory, where a few seconds later Saltash joined him.

“I should like to burn that damn band alive!” he remarked as he did so.

Dick shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.

Again Saltash’s eyes dwelt upon him with curiosity.  “I want to know you,” he said suddenly.  “I hope you don’t object?”

“I am vastly honoured by your notice,” said Dick.

Saltash nodded.  “Well, don’t be an ass about it!  I am a most inoffensive person, I assure you.  And it isn’t my fault that I was on friendly terms with Mademoiselle Juliette before she forsook the world, etc., etc., and turned to you to fill the void.  Do you flatter yourself you are going to marry her by any chance?”

A swift gleam shot up in Dick’s eyes.  He stiffened involuntarily.  “That is a subject I cannot discuss—­even with you,” he said.

Saltash smiled good-humouredly.  “Well, I expected that.  But your courtship on the lake this afternoon was so delightfully ingenuous that I couldn’t help wondering what your intentions were.”

Dick’s mouth became a simple hard line.  He looked the other man up and down with lightning rapidity ere he replied with significance.  “My intentions, my lord, are—­honourable.”

Saltash bowed with his hand on his heart and open mockery in his eyes. “La pauvre Juliette!  And have you told her yet?  No, look here!  Don’t knock me down!  There’s no sense in taking offence at a joke you can’t understand.  And it would be bad manners to have a row, with that poor soul in there at death’s door.  Moreover, if you really want to marry the princess Juliette, it’ll pay you to be friends with me.”