‘Go nowhere, and speak to no one,’ replied Dr Fellows authoritatively. ‘They are my orders, remember. Remain in the sitting-room, and let no one enter the house. When I require you, I will call you.’
Liz walked out of the bed-chamber at once, and left her father with his patient. She could not understand him this evening, and his action alarmed as much as it puzzled her. Maraquita must indeed be ill, to make him look and speak with such complete dismay; he who was generally so cool and self-collected, and who appeared to look on death, whenever it occurred, as a kindly note of release from a very troublesome world. She drew out her work (for whatever her mental perplexities, Liz was never idle) and sat down to sew and practise patience. She could not help hearing the low moans that forced their way through the wooden partitions of the building, and her father’s soothing tones, but she could gain no knowledge of what was passing there. At last, after the space of an hour, although it had seemed much longer, Dr Fellows entered the room in which she sat, and went to his cupboard in search of some medicine. His daughter looked up anxiously as he appeared.
‘Only tell me if she is better,’ she urged.
‘She is not better yet,’ replied her father; ‘but there is every hope she soon will be.’
‘Thank Heaven for it! But I cannot help thinking of her poor parents. Perhaps they have discovered her absence, and are searching the island for her. It is cruel to keep them in suspense.’
‘I think if you look at the matter from a sensible point of view, Liz, you will see that when they miss Maraquita, my bungalow is the first place they will visit. But I do not think they will miss her, at least not yet. Meanwhile I want to speak to you. Can you give me your serious attention?’
‘Unless Quita should want you,’ replied Liz, looking anxiously towards the bed-chamber.
‘She will not do so for some little time, for I have given her a soothing draught, and she is asleep; and I can hear the least sound from where I stand. But it is necessary you should listen to me.’
‘I am all attention, father.’
‘You have spent the best part of your life in San Diego, Liz; has it ever struck you as strange that I, an Englishman, and a certificated doctor, should have chosen to make my home in this island, and live, as it were, on the bounty of Edward Courtney?’