'I do. You hear him too.'
I never saw a man behave so wildly. He seemed to have all at once gone mad.
'I don't! I don't! How can you tell if I do or do not? The idea's nonsense. It's a figment of the brain. I'm--I'm run down, and I fancy things--that's all. Besides, how could he call so that I could hear him--all the way--from Cressland? He must be dead--long since! long since! You're a fool, woman, to suppose he isn't dead--a fool! a fool!' He seemed to suddenly realise how he was talking, and to see our startled faces. 'Why are you all looking at me like that? What's the matter? There's nothing wrong. Reggie, I've not--been very well--lately. You're quite right, I'm a different man. All this--has been too much for me. I want--I want--Who's that calling?'
'It's James.'
'James? It's Babbacombe! It's Babbacombe! What's the use of his calling? They've fastened him down. They did it before I came. What shall I do? What shall I do?'
He stood there before us all, sobbing like a child. The old gentleman they spoke of as Sir Gregory went up to him.
'Come, my dear sir, you must control yourself. The excitement has been too much for you. If you're not careful, you'll be ill.'
But I heard Dr. Clinton whisper to the young gentleman who'd brought us there--
'If I were you, I'd see what's inside that coffin.'
'I intend to.'