"Then so be it. Now I will go for the doctor."
She held out her hand; he took it, and for the second time that morning raised it to his lips. Then he strode away in the direction of the store. Murkard was not surprised at the news. He accompanied him to the beach, and helped him to push his boat into the water. When Ellison was past the jetty he returned to his work, muttering:
"I knew something would happen to prevent it. This is the hand of Destiny again."
Ellison pulled swiftly across to the township, beached his boat opposite the Chinese quarter, and after inquiring the direction of the doctor's house, set off for it without a moment's delay. He discovered the medico smoking on his veranda, and in less than three minutes had given him a complete summary of the case. They returned to the boat together, and Ellison, after pulling him across, conducted him straightway to the sick man's bedroom. He did not go in himself, but waited on the veranda. In half an hour the doctor emerged and beckoned him out of hearing of the house. Ellison read the worst in his face.
"Is there no hope?"
"Not a scrap. I tell you this straightforwardly. Of course I presume, from your anxiety, you are an interested party, and as such have a right to know. The man's spine is fatally injured. Paralysis has already set in in the lower limbs. It is only a matter of time with him now."
"How long do you think he may live?"
"It is impossible to say—six hours, possibly eight, certainly not more. If you have any business to consult him upon, I advise you to do it at once; he may not be conscious very long."
"You have not told his daughter?"
"Only that the case is serious. I have told him, and I think he will tell her."