“Don’t go in, dear bairn,” he said in a husky whisper; “it isn’t for the likes of you to see.”
“Thank you, Wolfe,” she said calmly, “I am not afraid.”
But at that moment, as Glyddyr was about to make a protest, a quiet-looking, gentlemanly man appeared at the door turning down his cuffs, the perspiration glistening upon his high white forehead as he came out into the sun.
“No, no, my dear child,” he said in a whisper, as a low moaning came from within and seemed to be followed by the low soft washing of the waves below. “You can do no good.”
“Is—is he very bad, Doctor Asher?” asked Claude.
He looked at her for an instant or two without replying, and then bent his head.
“Oh!” ejaculated Claude, with a low cry of pain.
“Terribly crushed, my dear; better leave them together alone.”
“But—you do not think—oh, Doctor Asher, you can save him?”
“Is it so bad as that, sir?” whispered Glyddyr, as he saw the peculiar look in the doctor’s face. “Couldn’t you—with more help—shall I send?”