"I left the poor child in a very critical state, sir," he replies, trying to conceal his impatience at being detained thus unexpectedly; "but I am returning there at the end of the afternoon, and should there be any change, either for better or worse, I will try and send you up a message."
"Not for the worse, Dr. John?" repeats Mr. Ben, while both the kind old faces express much emotion. "You don't look for a change for the worse, do you?"
"No, no, my dear sirs; God forbid that I should look for it. But as yet I cannot tell, though to-night must decide the case one way or the other. We will pull her through yet, Mr. Talboys, if it be God's will; and if not—"
A lump rises in the young man's throat which prevents his finishing his sentence, and shaking off Mr. Ben's detaining hand as gently as he can, he tries to make his escape. But Mr. Ned hurries after him, and once more seizing his hand cries, with tears in his eyes:
"Save her, Dr. John! only save the child, and my Brother Ben and I shall owe you a debt of gratitude that we can never sufficiently repay."
CHAPTER XXIII.
DICK'S GOOD NEWS.
The message which Dr. Sinclair promised the Mr. Talboys is despatched about ten o'clock the same night by his own errand-boy, whom he has brought with him to the Rookery and installed in the kitchen, in case of his wanting anything from his surgery during the night, as also to make himself useful in any way that he can in the house, all Becky's energies being concentrated on keeping the kitchen fire in.
The message is one that brings tears of joy and thankfulness to the eyes of the soft-hearted old gentlemen, for it tells them that their little favourite sank into a deep sleep about seven, and that if it continues, as Dr. Sinclair hopes and thinks it will, all danger will be at an end.
The old gentlemen retire to their beds, therefore, in a happier frame of mind than that in which they had left them the same morning. A long, anxious night of watching follows, through most of which Dr. Sinclair sits patiently, his large hand clasped tightly by Daisy's little thin one, until he becomes too cramped almost to move, though not all the agony in the world would have induced him to do so at the risk of rousing his little patient.