CHAPTER XIV

Is this madness?

Instantly there was wild confusion, and half a dozen persons sprang forward to assist Raymond with his burden.  But he waved them back.

“Let her have air,” he said.  “Don’t crowd so close.  She must have air,” and he moved towards a window.  The crowd separated to let him pass and allowed him the use of an entire bench, while more water was brought and the bottle of smelling salts was again produced.  In the meantime the coroner whispered to the chief of police, who in turn whispered to a policeman, and the two minions of the law followed Raymond.

Margaret lay like one dead, every particle of color having forsaken her cheeks.  Raymond waited anxiously, and then applied his ear to her heart.

“A doctor!” he cried hoarsely.  “A doctor, for Heaven’s sake!  She is dying!”

Doctor Bardon came forward, followed by Doctor Bird, and both looked at the unconscious one closely and critically.  There was no shamming here—­the shock had been heavy—­the bolt had struck home.

“This is serious, truly,” murmured the older physician.  “We had better remove her to a side room and loosen up her garments.”

Many were willing to assist, but Raymond shook them off and he and Doctor Bird carried Margaret into the room where the jury had arrived at the verdict which had so stunned her.  Then a nurse who happened to be in the court-room was called in, and she and the physician began to work over the suffering girl.

“Doctor—­” Raymond could scarcely speak.  “She will—­will come around all right?”

“Why, I guess so.  She has swooned, that is all.  The trial was too much for her.  And then there was such a crowd, and the ventilation being poor—­”

The young man waited, five, ten, fifteen minutes—­it was as an eternity.  The doctor still continued to work, and so did the nurse.  Then the latter whispered something and Raymond caught the words, “a mental shock, by her eyes.”

“What’s that?” he questioned.  He looked at Margaret and saw that her eyes were wide open and she was staring hard at him.  “Margaret!”

She did not answer, but continued to stare, turning from him to the nurse and then to the old doctor.  The chief of police was at the doorway and she gave him a look that fairly froze his blood.

“Who—­” she began and stopped short.  “How light it is!  What struck me?  Why are you all staring at me in this manner?  What have I done?  Where am I?  Have I been sick?”

“Margaret!” Raymond came closer and took her hand.  “Margaret!”

She stared at him and flung his hand away.  “I’ve had a horrible dream—­I dreamed papa was murdered—­that somebody had strangled him!  Strangled him to get my engagement ring from me!  And there was blood there, blood, and nobody could come to the lawn party.  Oh, if they knew—­and my poor head—­it swims so!  And the bottle—­the handkerchief—­”