"Yes," I answered; "there is one on the first floor. Shall I fetch him?"
"Do," said the old man. "Tell him that Doctor Masterson wishes to call him in consultation on a serious matter." I hastened on my errand, though not so rapidly as not to pause a moment to glance in at Miss Pembroke, who had recovered consciousness, and was lying quietly back on the sofa pillows, while Laura bathed her forehead with cologne. I well knew the soothing capabilities of Laura's finger-tips; and I also was not surprised to notice that the black girl had ceased her convulsive shuddering, and, though still sitting on the floor, was gazing at Laura as if fascinated.
All this I took in in a brief glance, and then ran hurriedly down the stairs in search of Doctor Post.
"Is this Doctor Post?" I asked as I entered his office.
"Yes," he replied, laying down the gloves and hat he held. Apparently, he was just about to go out, and I had fortunately arrived in time.
"Will you go up-stairs with me?" I went on. "Mr. Pembroke, on the third floor, is dead; and his physician, Doctor Masterson, is at a loss to discover the cause of his death. He sent me to ask you to join him in consultation."
"Doctor Masterson!" exclaimed Doctor Post, and I saw at once that the younger man was flattered at being called in consultation by the older and celebrated practitioner. "He wants me?" he asked, as if scarcely able to believe it.
"Yes; it is a peculiar case, and he asks your help. Will you go with me at once?"
"Certainly," and in another moment Doctor Post and I were in the elevator.