After Sir Karl's departure, the superintendent's bell rang and Tatton was recalled. A long conversation ensued. Matters known were weighed; matters suspected were looked at: and Mr. Tatton was finally bidden back to Foxwood.
Karl had gone direct from Scotland Yard to take the train. A fast one, which speedily conveyed him home. He walked from the station, and was entering his own gates when Hewitt--who seemed to have been gossiping at the lodge with the gardener's wife, but who had probably been lingering about in the hope of meeting his master--accosted him; and they went up the walk together.
"I am afraid something is amiss at the Maze, sir," began the man, looking cautiously around and speaking in a low tone.
"Something amiss at the Maze!" echoed Karl, seized with a terror that he did not attempt to conceal.
"Not _that_, sir; not the worst, thank Heaven! Sir Adam has been taken ill."
"Hush, Hewitt. No names. Ill in what way I How do you know it?"
"I had been to carry a note for my lady to old Miss Patchett, Sir Karl. Coming back, Ann Hopley overtook me; she was walking from the station at a fine rate. Her master had been taken most alarmingly ill, she said; and at any risk a doctor must be had to him. They did not dare to call in Mr. Moore, lest he might talk to the neighbours, and she had been to the station then to telegraph for a stranger."
Karl drew a deep breath. It seemed to be perplexity on perplexity: and he saw at once how much danger this step must involve.
"What is the matter with him, Hewitt? Do you know?"
"It was one of those dreadful fainting-fits, sir. But they could not get him out of it, and for some time thought he was really dead. Mrs. Grey was nearly beside herself, Ann said, and insisted on having a doctor. He is better now, sir," added Hewitt, "and I think there's no need for you to go over unless you particularly wish. I went strolling about the road, thinking I might hear or see something more, and when Ann Hopley came to the gate to answer a ring, she told me he was quite himself again but still in bed. It was the pain made him faint."
"I cannot think what the pain is," murmured Karl. "Has the doctor been?"
Karl lifted his hat to rub his aching brow. He saw his wife sitting under one of the trees, and went forward to join her. The wan, weary look on her face, growing more wan, more weary, day by day, struck on him particularly in the waning light of the afternoon.