Mr. Fabian went up to his father’s door and rapped softly.

Old Martha came to admit him.

“How is your master?  Is he awake?  Can I see him?” he inquired.

“Surely, Marse Fabe!  Ole marse wide awake, berry easy, and ’quiring arter you.  Come in, sar!”

Mr. Fabian entered the room, which was in some darkness from the closed window shutters, and went up to his father’s bed.

“I hope you are better, sir,” he said.

“I don’t know,” said the injured man, in a faint voice.

“How are the works getting on?”

“Famously, sir!  Splendidly!  Pray do not feel the least anxiety on that score.”

“Where is Clarence?”

“At North End, sir.  Of course, he would not think of leaving the works while both you and myself are absent.”

“I don’t know,” sighed the weary invalid, for the third time.  “But you had better not, either of you, attempt to deceive me while I am lying here on my back.”

“Not for the world, my dear father!  Pray do not be doubtful or anxious.  We are your dutiful sons, sir, and our first—­”

“Rubbish!” exclaimed the broken Iron King.  “That will do!  Go send Rose to me.  Why the deuce did she leave?  I—­I—­I—­” His voice dropped into an inarticulate murmur.

Mr. Fabian bent over him, and saw that he had dozed off to sleep.

“Dat’s de way he’s been a-goin’ on ebber since de doctor lef’.  It’s de truck wot de doctor give him,” said old Martha.

Fabian stole on tiptoe out of the room.  Dinner was waiting for him down stairs.  He would not deliver his father’s selfish message to Rose, because he wished the poor creature to dine in peace.  He told Clarence to give her his arm to the dining room.

While they were all at dinner Violet explained to her husband why Mr. Rockharrt had directed her to return home.  Poor Violet was very loth to stir up any ill feeling between the father and son; but she need not have feared.  Mr. Fabian understood the autocrat too well to take offense at the dismissal of his wife.

The next morning when the family physician arrived, and visited the injured man, he found him suffering from restlessness and a rising fever.

He reported this condition to Mr. Clarence Rockharrt, left very particular directions for the treatment of the patient, and then took leave, with the promise to return in the evening and remain all night.

Later in the afternoon the doctor, having finished all other professional calls for the day, arrived at Rockhold.  He found his patient delirious.  He took up his post by the sick bed for the night, and then peremptorily sent off the worn-out watcher, Rose, to the rest she so much needed.

The condition of Aaron Rockharrt was very critical.  Irritative fever had set in with great violence, and this was the beginning of the hard struggle for life that lasted many days, during which delirium, stupor, and brief lucid intervals followed each other with the rise and fall of the fever.  A professional nurse was engaged to attend him; but the real burden of the nursing fell on Rose.