"Captain Monk--pardon me--I saw my name on that bit of paper; it caught
my eye as you held it out," he said in a low tone. "Am I called out? Is
anyone in the parish dying?"

Thus questioned, Captain Monk told the truth. No one was dying, and he
was not called out to the parish. Some gentleman was asking to speak to
him; only that.

"Well, I'll just see who it is, and what he wants," said Mr. Dancox,
rising. "Won't be away two minutes, sir."

"Bring him back with you; tell him he'll find good wine here and jolly
cheer," said the Captain. And Mr. Dancox went out, swinging his
table-napkin in his hand.

In crossing the hall he met Katherine, exchanged a hasty word with her,
let fall the serviette on a chair as he caught up his hat and overcoat,
and went out. Katherine ran upstairs.

Hubert lay down on one of the drawing-room sofas. In point of fact, that
young gentleman could not walk straight. A little wine takes effect on
youngsters, especially when they are not accustomed to it. Mrs.
Carradyne told Hubert the best place for him was bed. Not a bit of it,
the boy answered: he should go out on the terrace at twelve o'clock; the
chimes would be fine, heard out there. He fell asleep almost as he
spoke; presently he woke up, feeling headachy, cross and stupid, and of
his own accord went up to bed.

Meanwhile, the dining-room was getting jollier and louder as the time
passed on towards midnight. Great wonder was expressed at the non-return