“He is dead.”
“Dead!”
“Yes,—he is gone. A concussion of the brain has taken him off. It was a terrible fall, indeed.”
“But how sudden!” exclaimed she.
“People will die suddenly sometimes,” replied the doctor; “and especially when pitched headlong out of a gig on a stony road. Now I think of it, let me tell you, my dear, that to-morrow perhaps, or on some early day, I shall want you to show a young woman down in the village here, all over the house. I wish her to see the patients. Do not ask any questions now; I have particular reasons for it. I only have to request of you very particularly, when she does come, to make no inquiries of her of any kind, nor to answer any questions she may put to you. It is of great importance to yourself as well as to me; and more so indeed than you can be aware of just now; so that it is unnecessary to insist further upon it.”
The wife promised strict compliance with his injunctions, as it was no very unusual thing for her thus to be requested to take a blind part in the performance of some mystery or other in the establishment, of which no one knew the purpose save Dr. Rowel himself. By this combination of secrecy with his wife, and of apparent openness and candour towards Fanny, he trusted to convince the latter that the communication which the dying man had made respecting her father was false and utterly without foundation. In adopting this bold course, it is evident that the doctor laid himself open to the possibility at least of a discovery; yet it was clearly the safest plan which, under the circumstances, he could adopt. The opinions which his wife entertained respecting the sanity of the unfortunate James Woodruff rendered it highly necessary, not only that the name and relationship of the visiter to whom he had promised an inspection of his house should be unknown to her, but also that no suspicion should be excited by any attempt on his part to prevent James Woodruff's being seen by Fanny along with all the other patients; since the very fact of one of them being purposely withheld would of itself give room for doubt; while, from an interview between them he had nothing to fear, since in his opinion it was a moral impossibility that either father or daughter should recognise the other.
CHAPTER VII.
A jury sits on the body of Skinwell. Colin advises Fanny Woodruff upon a subject of some importance.