Cheerful as his words were, he was shrewdly observing her, for her paleness and the strange light in her eyes gave him a sense of anxiety. He wondered what trouble was on her.
“Excommunication?” he repeated.
The unintended truth went home. She winced, even as she responded with that quaint note in her voice which gave humor to her speech. “Yes, excommunication,” she replied; “but why an enemy? Do we not need to excommunicate our friends sometimes?”
“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.”