"And the next heir to the title. I fancy you will be called `my lord' before midnight."
Mallow did not display any pleasure on hearing this. He valued a title very little and, so far as money was concerned, had ample for his needs. Besides, he was really fond of his uncle who, although consistently eccentric, had always been a kind, good friend. "Will he recover consciousness?"
"I think so," said the doctor doubtfully, "I am not quite sure. His own medical attendant, knowing his constitution and its resisting power, will be able to speak more assuredly. How did this happen?"
Cuthbert, for obvious reasons, explained as little as he could. "Some old woman came to see my uncle and threw vitriol at Miss Saxon, the young lady who was with him. He intercepted the stuff and fell into the fire."
"What a demon! I hope she will be caught."
"She is dead," and Cuthbert related the accident in the street. The doctor had strong nerves, but he shuddered when he heard the dreadful story. Nemesis had been less leaden-footed than usual.
In due time Dr. Yeo, who usually attended Caranby, made his appearance and stated that his patient would not live many hours. "He was always weak," said Yeo, "and of late his weakness increased. The two severe shocks he has sustained would almost kill a stronger man, let alone an old man of so delicate an organization. He will die."
"I hope not," said Cuthbert, impulsively.
The physician looked at him benignly. "I differ from you," he declared, "death will come as a happy release to Lord Caranby. For years he has been suffering from an incurable complaint which gave him great pain. But that he had so much courage, he would have killed himself."
"He never complained."