On he went until he reached the churchtown, and made his way up the empty street to Dr. Ravenshaw’s house. He turned in the garden gate, and beat with his heavy boot against the closed door.
Chapter XXXIII
Some one stirred within, and a ray of light in the fanlight grew bright as footsteps in the passage drew near. The door opened, and showed the figure of Dr. Ravenshaw holding in his hand a lighted lamp which shone upon Thalassa and the dripping figure in his arms. The doctor looked down from the doorstep in silent surprise, then stepped quickly back from the threshold and opened the surgery door, holding the lamp high to guide Thalassa in.
“There—on the couch,” he said, placing the lamp on the table. “What has happened?”
“Miss Sisily fell over the cliffs by the Moon Rock. I found her and carried her up, and brought her straight here.”
The doctor’s quick glance was a professional tribute to the strength of a frame capable of performing such a feat. He turned his attention to Sisily, bending over her and feeling her pulse. With a sharp exclamation he dropped her wrist and tore open the front of her dress, placing his hand on her heart. With his other hand he took up his stethoscope from the table.
“Bring that lamp closer—quick!” he cried.
Thalassa lifted the lamp from the table and stood beside him. The yellow glow of the lamp enveloped the livid bluish features of Sisily and the stooping form with the stethoscope. The instrument of silver and rubber held miraculous possibilities of life and death to Thalassa. He watched it anxiously—directed the light upon it. The shape on the couch remained motionless.
Thalassa’s gaze wandered from the stethoscope to Dr. Ravenshaw. The doctor’s bent neck showed white between the top of his shirt and the grey hair above it. He was wearing no collar, so he must have been going to bed—when the knock came. Thalassa’s eyes dwelt on the exposed flesh with a steady yet wondering contemplation. The lamp in his hand wavered slightly.