XLVI
Occasionally now, for a long time, there had been coming from the next room the dink of steel against steel, a murmur of hushed voices, and a sound of several pairs of feet moving softly. With the exception of two cups of soup, Wilmot, in preparation for what he was to undergo, had had nothing to eat. What with this and the natural commotion of revolt in his whole nervous system, he was weak and faint.
The door opened, and Dr. Ferris came quietly into the room and bent over him. He was in white linen from head to foot, and wore upon his hands a pair of thin rubber gloves, glistening with the water in which they had been boiling.
Prepared to find Wilmot, he naturally recognized him, in spite of the beard which so changed the young man's face for the worse; but of this recognition he gave no sign. The legless man, alert for any possibility of self-betrayal on Wilmot's part, had followed him into the room. Dr. Ferris spoke very quickly:
"My man," he said, "is it true that of your own free will, in exchange for immunity and other benefits received, you consent to the amputation of both your legs, as near the hip-joint as may be found necessary?"
Wilmot drew a long breath, focussed his mind upon bright memories of Barbara, and slowly nodded.
"You are quite sure? You are holding back nothing? There has been no coercion?"
"It's all right," chirped in Blizzard. "Glad of the chance to pay me back, aren't you, my boy?"
For a moment Wilmot's eyes rested with a cold contempt on the beggar's. And he thought, "to save her from that!" and once more nodded.