Chester, who had had eyes only for his patient, turned sharply, and took a tumbler of Burgundy from the well-bred man who offered it, drank a few mouthfuls, and set the glass down close by the weapon which had caused the wound, and which lay near a dish containing a large pine.
Chester raised his brows a little as he now saw the richness of the table appointments, and at the same time grasped the fact that he was in some wealthy home. Then this was endorsed as he turned and his eyes lit upon the lady kneeling on the other side of the couch, pale and beautiful, for he noted that she had magnificent diamonds in her hair, about her neck, and clasped upon her soft white wrists.
“Say something, doctor,” she whispered pleadingly.
“I cannot, madam, yet.”
“But he will live?” she wailed.
“Please God, madam. Gentlemen, the case is serious,” he said, turning to those who were watching him. “I should like someone else called in for consultation.”
“No,” said one of the gentlemen, decisively. “If you cannot save him, no one can.”
“Jem,” said the other, hoarsely, “it’s murder not to—”
“Silence!” said the first speaker, sternly. “Dr Chester will save him if he is to be saved.”
“Oh, Jem, Jem!” moaned the lady.