Almost before Elder Dean had left the threshold Helen stood at the bolted door.

She turned the knob gently while she knocked.
"John," she said anxiously,--"John, dear!" But there was no answer.
"John!" she said again, a thread of fear in her voice.

"What is the matter?
Are you ill, dearest?
Please let me in!" Only the rustle of the wind outside and the flickering shadows across the hall answered her.

She shook the door slightly, and then listened.

"John, John!" she called again, and as she heard a long breath inside the closed room she leaned against the wall, faint with a fright she had not realized.