Daniel came down the path to meet him.
“I thought so,” he muttered, as he saw the excited looks of the visitor; and he offered Huish his arm, for the young man staggered as the gate swung to.
“The doctor—quick!” said Huish, with his eyes looking staring and wild.
“In his study, sir—only just back from town,” said Daniel; and he helped the tottering visitor quickly into the house, across the hall, and at once into the doctor’s room.
“Why, John—Huish, my dear boy, what is this?”
“Possessed—of a devil—doctor,” cried Huish thickly. “For Heaven’s sake—help me—I’m going mad!”
He sank back into an easy-chair gasping, and his face turned blue with the congestion of his veins; then he babbled hoarsely a few unintelligible words, and became insensible.
“Basin—quick!” said the doctor; and as his ready aide ran to a little mahogany stand, the doctor’s pocket-book was opened, a tiny steel blade glittered for a moment, and directly after the dark stream of John Huish’s life-blood was trickling from a vein.