"Ah, I thought you would be amazed," said Mr. Sparrow complacently. "Wonderful are the works of God and——"
"Oh, hang your platitudes! You talk rubbish. Why, you told me yourself that Hardwick was dead."
"I did. I saw him lying dead on his bed, and mentioned to Mr. Montrose that he looked as though he were asleep. It might be a case of suspended animation," continued Mr. Sparrow, brushing his bald head thoughtfully, "something of a cataleptic nature it may be."
"Well? Well? Well? Go on."
"There is nothing further to say, Mr. Enistor. The presumed dead man revived this morning and is now as well as you or I. I was sent for immediately by the landlady and called to express my astonishment. I have telegraphed for the Perchton doctor who deposed to the death. He will be amazed to learn what has taken place. Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!"
"It is no doubt a case of catalepsy as you say," growled the Squire, turning to his desk again. "A good thing for Hardwick that he wasn't buried alive. Now he can enjoy Narvaez' fortune and have a good time."
"I hope he will be a good man, seeing that he has been raised from the dead like Lazarus. Not that Mr. Hardwick was bad. Indeed I always thought that he had signs of grace about him. Well! Well! His resurrection gives me a text for next Sunday. I thought you would be pleased."
"I am not pleased and I am not sorry," retorted Enistor. "Hardwick is a nonentity and is nothing to me."
"I thought you were friends, Mr. Enistor. He asks to see you, saying that he is sure you will come down to him at once."