The colonel and Watt exchanged shocked glances.

“Here, Shrimplin, help me with Marsh!” said Watt.  “We must get him out of here at once!”

They lifted Langham in their arms and bore him into an adjoining room.  As they placed him upon the bed he recovered consciousness and clutched Watt by the sleeve.

“I’ve been seeing all sorts of things to-night—­it began while I lay in that ditch with the pigs rooting about me!  Where is my father, can’t you find him?” he demanded eagerly.

Watt turned his head away.

“Then that was not a dream—­you saw it, too?” said Langham huskily.  He dropped back on his pillow.  “Dead—­Oh, my God!” he whispered, and was a long time silent.

Harbison despatched Shrimplin and Custer in quest of a physician, and he and Watt busied themselves with removing Marshall’s wet clothes.  When this was done they washed the blood-stains from his face.  He did not speak while they were thus occupied; his eyes, wide and staring, were fixed on vacancy.  He was seeing only that still figure on the bed in the room adjoining.

There was a brisk step on the stairs and they were joined by Doctor Taylor.

“I declare, Marsh, I am sorry for this.  You must have had quite a tumble, how did you manage it?” he said, as he approached the bed.

Langham’s eyes lost something of their intentness as they were turned toward the physician, but he did not answer him.  The doctor moved a step aside with Colonel Harbison.

“Had he been drinking?” he asked in a low tone.

“I don’t know,” said the colonel.

“Shrimplin has gone for Mrs. Langham—­I think they are here now.  Don’t let her come up until I have made my examination.  Will you see to this?”

And the colonel quitted the room and hurried down-stairs.

As he gained the floor below, Evelyn entered the house.

“How is Marsh, Colonel Harbison?” she asked.

Her face was colorless but her manner was unexcited; her lips even had a smile for the colonel.

“Doctor Taylor is with him, and I trust he will be able to tell you that Marshall’s injuries are not serious!” said Harbison gently.

“Where is he?  I must go to him—­”

“The doctor prefers that you wait until he finishes his examination,” said the colonel.  He drew her into the library.  “Evelyn, I must tell you—­you must know that something else—­unspeakably dreadful—­has happened here to-night!”

“Yes?” The single word was no more than a breath on her full lips.

The colonel hesitated.

“You need not fear to tell me—­whatever it is, I—­I am prepared for anything—­” said Evelyn, with a pause between each word.

“The judge is dead,” said Harbison simply.  “My poor old friend is dead!”

“Dead—­Marshall’s father dead!” She looked at him curiously, with a questioning light in her eyes.  “You have not told me all, Colonel Harbison!”