The boy heard a low-breathed murmur of thanksgiving.
“Dad!”
“Ah!—Max!...”
Round the corner of a big screen near the door came the eager face of a boy. Just one peep at that other boyish face on the pillow, and then Austin’s vanished. A minute later its owner, on shoeless feet, was dancing a wild jig of enthusiasm on the landing outside. For the great London specialist, Sir Gerald Turner, had said that if, within a certain time, Max recovered consciousness, there might be a chance for his life. And Austin had firm faith in that “chance”.
Sir Gerald had found it convenient to spend a country holiday with his brother, Betty’s father, and might be relied on to be within hail. Max’s case was interesting, and Sir Gerald liked Dr. Brenton. So now Austin, with one brief word to Janet, found his boots, dragged them on somehow, and flew to summon the famous physician. Sir Gerald came at a pace which tried Austin’s patience to the last degree; but as the man was not to be hurried, the boy ran in advance, and wondered as he went what it could feel like to give a verdict for life or death.
Dr. Brenton came to meet his coadjutor, and led him upstairs. The two friends, speaking in whispers, passed out of Austin’s ken. Then the boy, studying his watch, learned that Sir Gerald could actually be heartless enough to keep him in horrible uncertainty for a good ten minutes, and wondered how London could produce and tolerate such a monster. The distant hum of voices heard murmuringly through Max’s window overhead was so intolerable that Austin covered his ears with his hands as he rocked to and fro on the doorstep. Thus he was taken by surprise when a hand was laid kindly on his shoulder, and a voice said gently:
“Be comforted, my boy. Your playfellow is better: he is going to pull through.”
Austin’s wild shout of joy made Max stir in his health-giving sleep; but after all it did no harm, and carried to a little knot of waiting Altruists the first glad prophecy of better things to come.
Max improved slowly, and at length reached a point of improvement beyond which he seemed unable to go. No one was more disturbed than he that this should be the case. His father was palpably uneasy at leaving him, and yet work must be attended to. His own pensioners were doubtless in need of him, though the entire body of Altruists had placed themselves unreservedly at his service.