But I did not even suspect how ill she would be.
As soon as I heard Dr Duncan’s opinion of her, which was not very definite, a great fear seized upon me that I was destined to lose her after all. This fear, however, terrible as it was, did not torture me like the fear that had preceded it. I could oftener feel able to say, “Thy will be done” than I could before.
Dr Duncan was hardly out of the house when Old Rogers arrived, and was shown into the study. He looked excited. I allowed him to tell out his story, which was his daughter’s of course, without interruption. He ended by saying:—
“Now, sir, you really must do summat. This won’t do in a Christian country. We ain’t aboard ship here with a nor’-easter a-walkin’ the quarter-deck.”
“There’s no occasion, my dear old fellow, to do anything.”
He was taken aback.
“Well, I don’t understand you, Mr Walton. You’re the last man I’d have expected to hear argufy for faith without works. It’s right to trust in God; but if you don’t stand to your halliards, your craft ’ll miss stays, and your faith ’ll be blown out of the bolt-ropes in the turn of a marlinspike.”
I suspect there was some confusion in the figure, but the old man’s meaning was plain enough. Nor would I keep him in a moment more of suspense.
“Miss Oldcastle is in the house, Old Rogers,” I said.
“What house, sir?” returned the old man, his gray eyes opening wider as he spoke.