“I found him like this, sir, and came over to fetch you at once.”
“But she must be told.”
“John, John dear, are you there? I thought you had gone on to fetch Madelaine.”
Crampton rose hastily to try and bar the way; but he was too late. Mrs Van Heldre was at the door, and had caught a glimpse of the prostrate man.
“Doctor Knatchbull! what is the matter—a fit?”
The trouble was culminating, for another voice was heard in the glass corridor.
“Papa! papa! here is Mr Vine. He walked home with me. I made him come in. Oh, what a shame to be at work so late!”
“Keep her—keep her back,” gasped Mrs Van Heldre, and then with a piteous sob she sank down by Van Heldre’s side.
“John, my husband! speak to me, oh, speak,” she moaned as she raised his head to her lap.
“Ah, you want Brother Luke to you, John Van,” cried Vine, as with Madelaine on his arm he came to the door of the inner room.