Could she call to her presence the very cause of all her foregoing troubles?
Alas!--old Jones was seven miles off; Giles was possibly dying--what else could she do?
It was in a perspiration, wrought even more by consciousness than by exercise, that she picked up some gravel, threw it at the panes, and waited to see the result.

The night-bell which had been fixed when Fitzpiers first took up his residence there still remained; but as it had fallen into disuse with the collapse of his practice, and his elopement, she did not venture to pull it now.
Whoever slept in the room had heard her signal, slight as it was.

In half a minute the window was opened, and a voice said "Yes ?" inquiringly.

Grace recognized her husband in the speaker at once.

Her effort was now to disguise her own accents.
"Doctor," she said, in as unusual a tone as she could command, "a man is dangerously ill in One-chimney Hut, out towards Delborough, and you must go to him at once--in all mercy!" "I will, readily." The alacrity, surprise, and pleasure expressed in his reply amazed her for a moment.