He was wide awake in a moment.
"A man up the gorge is ill—and he has sent. Don't you think we can ask Jem to go?"
"Wants me?"
"Smithson has brought the message."
"Who is it?"
"Barclay. He is very ill—dying."
"And he has sent for me?"
"You can't go. It is impossible!" That side of the matter was all Jean could see now. The responsibility lay with her father since she had called him, and she would do all in her power to keep him back. "You can't go. It is so cold and wet—a dreadful evening—and you are not well enough."
"I can't help that. Run, my dear. I shall be ready in a few minutes."
"If it were anywhere else—where you could drive! But up the gorge—"