"No, he warn't dead," mimicked Carrington, strolling easily toward the door, "and now that we know he warn't, I suppose there is no objection to my leaving this pleasant little party."
"Stay where you are," commanded Leigh in a much stronger voice. "It is no thanks to you that I am alive. Stop him, Hendle."
Rupert took Carrington by the shoulders and pushed him across the room and into the chair he had vacated. "You stay here," he said sternly.
"Oh, I'll stay if you wish me to," replied Carrington, making a virtue of necessity, and shrugging his shoulders contemptuously. "You can't get me into trouble now."
"We'll see about that," replied Leigh, who was breathing heavily. "I haven't much time to live, as the shock of being buried alive has given me my deathblow. But I shall live long enough to see that justice is done. Now let me explain what I owe to Mr. Carrington."
"One moment, before you change the subject," remarked Tollart sharply. "You told me that you had heart disease."
"I did," admitted the vicar dryly; "but I never allowed you to examine me, or you would have found that my heart was perfectly sound. I made that excuse to account for anyone finding me in a cataleptic trance."
"You should have told me the truth," rejoined the doctor sternly. "But that I thought the blow on the head had killed you, along with heart disease, I would have opened your body to be certain of the cause of death. As it was, Mr. Leigh----"
"As it wor," interrupted the old sexton aggressively, "you warn't sober, Muster Tollart. That you warn't."
"How dare you say that!" cried the doctor, flushing angrily.