"Ah—ah—some water!—I—I am faint."
In an instant a goblet of cool water was at her lips. She drank slowly, deliberating all the time to recover her senses; the surgeons—both young men, mere lads—waiting respectfully, inferring much from the melancholy robes. The water cooled her head, and she began to be able to think coherently.
"I have the surgeon-general's permit to visit a patient in your fever ward—Jones, the name is. Can I see him?"
"Pray, let me see the permit, madam?" He glanced at it, looked significantly at his comrade, and said:
"This man was removed three days ago."
"Whereto?"
"Warchester."
"Ah!" Kate's veil, by an imperceptible gesture, fell over part of her face. A great trembling came upon her again. The young surgeons exchanged glances.
"Who—who—did—who asked for his removal?"
"A Mr. Boone, also of Warchester."