“We were missin’ you,” greeted Thomas, as Doctor Joe entered the cabin. “Set in and have supper with Margaret. She’s kept un on th’ stove for you, and she’s waited t’ eat with you.”
“It’s kind of you, but can you wait a little, Margaret? There’s something I must say to your father before I eat,” and there was a new, strong note in Doctor Joe’s voice.
“Oh, yes,” agreed Margaret cheerfully, “I’m in no hurry.”
“Thomas,” said Doctor Joe, looking straight into Thomas’s face and plunging immediately into the matter, “Jamie’s eyes have reached a point where they must be operated upon at once or he will be beyond human help. I know you’re resigned to this, but I’m not. So long as there is the possibility of saving his sight we must do what there is to do. Thomas, I shall operate on them, with your consent. I have fetched my instruments from Break Cove.”
“Can—can you do un then?” and Thomas’s face brightened with fresh hope.
“There is none but me to do it, and we cannot see the lad go blind without an effort to save his eyes. Thomas, do you believe in me?” There was pathetic pleading in Doctor Joe’s voice.
“Believe in you! There’s nary a man I believes in more!” and Doctor Joe knew that Thomas was sincere.
“Thank you, Thomas,” said Doctor Joe, a quaver in his voice. “That means more to me than you will ever understand. But I must tell you about myself, for I want you to know all about me before I operate upon Jamie’s eyes, and when you have heard what I have to say you may not wish to trust me.
“I was once a skilful eye surgeon in New York,” he began, after a moment’s silence, “and I performed many difficult operations. The one ambition of my life was to be known as the greatest eye surgeon in my country, and my ambition was finally realized.