“That is a hard saying,” he answered soberly. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she mastered herself, and brought the crisis abruptly.
“I want you to save a man’s life,” she said, with her eyes looking straight into his. “Will you do it?”
His face grew grave and eager. “I want you to save a man’s happiness,” he answered. “Will you do it?”
“That man yonder will die unless your skill saves him,” she urged.
“This man here will go away unhappy and alone, unless your heart befriends him,” he replied, coming closer to her.
“At sunrise to-morrow he goes.” He tried to take her hand.
“Oh, please, please,” she pleaded, with a quick, protesting gesture. “Sunrise is far off, but the man’s fate is near, and you must save him. You only can do so, for Doctor Hadley is away, and Doctor Brydon is sick, and in any case Doctor Brydon dare not attempt the operation alone. It is too critical and difficult, he says.”
“So I have heard,” he answered, with a new note in his voice, his professional instinct roused in spite of himself. “Who is this man? What interests you in him?”
“To how many unknown people have you given your skill for nothing—your skill and all your experience to utter strangers, no matter how low or poor! Is it not so? Well, I cannot give to strangers what you have given to so many, but I can help in my own way.”
“You want me to see the man at once?”