As Chester left him he received an approving nod.
“We fellows would not have thought of that. Ah, here’s the coffee. Come, doctor, accept your position. It is folly to beat against the bars of a prison when they are too strong.”
For at that moment the heavy-faced young man, who seemed to be a thorough athlete, came back into the room from the other end, bearing a silver tray with handsome fittings; and Chester started slightly, for he had not seen him go, and he realised now that he must have been occupied for some little time with his patient.
Just then he saw that the leader of the little party whispered something which he interpreted to mean, “Let him alone; he’ll come to his senses;” and he began to think out his position.
Everything seemed in accordance with what had been told him: he was alone, one man against four—gentlemen, evidently, but plainly enough strongly-built, athletic fellows, who looked to be lovers of out-door sports, and each of them in a struggle more than his match.
His rage had cooled down somewhat, and his common-sense began to prevail. It was hard to master his resentment, and he could not make out what was at the back of it all, more than what was evidently plain—a terrible family quarrel, the participators in which were anxious to keep out of the papers, and possibly from the police courts. He did not know who they were, nor, as he realised now, in what street he was; but that, he felt, he could soon make out. It was awkward. They would be anxious in Raybeck Square, but he would send a message and set them at rest.
“I wonder whether they kept Bel all night,” he said to himself; and at this thought others came, and among them a strange feeling of annoyance with himself as he recalled his feelings, during the little journey, towards his summoner.
Then he hurriedly cast these thoughts aside, and began once more to ponder on his position, walking slowly to and fro, close to the couch, while the little party, who had lit up cigars, now began to sip their coffee.
The next minute the heavy-faced young fellow known as “Paddy” approached him with a cup and the cigar-case.
“I put a liqueur of brandy in it, doctor,” he said in a low voice. “I say, do you think the poor chap will get over it?”