"I don't give hope, sir," said Dr. Bario; "it's a chance, that's all—everything. It's one nice case for me—not you, young man."
"What do you mean?"
"There's danger in it—it's light, death, or madness! I do not you advise to risk this—but there's one chance if you do!"
"I will chance it!"
He was not content with the present, then; it had been a false placidity—he would risk his life for light; life without it, even with Mattie, did not seem for an instant worth considering!
"Very good. To-morrow I will you send for—you will have to place yourself entire under my direction for more weeks than one, before the final operation be attempted."
"I agree to everything—may I accompany you now?"
"To-morrow," was the answer again.
"Oh! it will never come. Maurice," he said, offering his hand, "however this ends, I am indebted to you."
"Yes—but—but if it end badly?"