"The nurse up at Paul's house say as 'ow he hasn't slept for three nights, and he's acted fair and strange, too. I wonder if there's onything in his mind?"
"I never thowt," said another, "as 'ow they would have ever hanged him when it coom to be known that Paul's feyther was a judge. I wonder 'ow it'll turn out."
And so they gossiped. Even in the public-houses a kind of solemn awe was present. No jokes were passed, even among those who were drunken. It seemed as though the Angel of Death were hovering over the town in which Paul had lived for so many years.
When midnight came, a messenger went from Brunclough Lane to Dr. Wilson's house. It was a neighbour of Mrs. Dodson's, who had been aroused from his sleep, and who had been requested to fetch the doctor, as her daughter was worse.
There was a communication by means of a tube between the front door and the doctor's bedroom.
"Hallo, Dr. White!"
"Yes, who are you?"
"I'm Amos Gregson. I come fro' Mrs. Dodson. She says as 'ow Emily's worse, and you must come at once."
"Very well; I'll be on in a few minutes."
The doctor might not have retired at all, for he was out in the street fully dressed a very few seconds after the man had left. With long, rapid strides he made his way to Paul's house, which stood in the near distance, and from one of the windows of which a light was burning. He knocked at the door, which was opened by Judge Bolitho.