He lifted up his eyes, and saw the very man of whom he spoke coming down the path.
[CHAPTER XXII.]
A DREAMER OF DREAMS.
It was with considerable astonishment that Dan saw Dr. Merle approaching the dell. That so habitual a recluse should break through his customary rules, and visit a comparative stranger showed that he must be influenced by a powerful motive. What that motive might be Dan was unable to conjecture, but hurriedly fixed on the only reason likely to account for the unexpected presence of his guest. It might be, Dan thought, that Merle had heard rumours of his attentions to Meg; and, therefore, had come to demand an explanation. This Dan was quite prepared to give, and, indeed, rather congratulated himself on the opportunity thus afforded of placing matters on a proper footing. His expectation was vain, for it soon appeared from the ensuing conversation that Merle had sought an interview for an entirely different purpose.
Although it was a warm day, the wretched creature shivered as he came down the path, and blinked his eyes constantly in the unaccustomed sunshine. For so many years he had lived in that darkened room, that the access of light and the keen air rendered him uncomfortable. He was wrapped up as though it were winter, and crawled feebly along with the aid of a staff. With his pallid face, loose mouth, and red-rimmed eyes, he looked a most pitiable object, and Dan secretly wondered that this decrepit wreck should be the father of so splendid a specimen of womanhood as Meg.
"A most undesirable father-in-law," said Dan to himself, as he went forward to assist his visitor. "But there is one comfort--he cannot live much longer. Even now he looks as though about to tumble into his grave."
In order to pay this visit Merle had evidently omitted to take his usual dose of laudanum; but in place of such abstinence rendering his brain clear, it made him weak and irritable. The sudden cessation of the drug unstrung his nerves and clouded his intellect, so that he sank on the log, to which Dan conducted him, in a state of mental and physical collapse. His breath came in quick gasps, his hands trembled, and his lean body shook as with the palsy. In all his experience, Dan had never seen so degenerate a specimen of the human race. Much as he despised him, yet he could not refrain from pitying the creature. He was so weak and prostrate and broken up.
All this time Merle said nothing, his whole attention being taken up in getting himself settled. When on the log, he coughed, and wiped the perspiration off his brow, and shivered and shook, until able to speak. It was quite five minutes before he could do so, and all the time Dan, after a brief word of welcome, held his peace, and eyed his visitor with strong curiosity.
"Ow, ow!" coughed Merle, weakly. "What a hill that is to climb! I haven't climbed one for years. Why do you live in this out-of-the-way place? It is quite a journey from my house."
"Why did you not send word that you wished to see me, Dr. Merle?" said Dan, gently. "Had you done so I should have called at your house, and so saved you the journey."