"Alone!" interrupted she, with astonishment. "What! when I have my father? See, he is coming through the shrubbery now, and Dr. Sitwell with him. Let us meet them. How glad I am that he has lost no time."
It was easy to distinguish the doctor, with his cane, his ruffles, and stiff professional appearance, a little impaired, however, by hot haste; moreover, his companion indicated him with his finger as we rapidly approached one another, exclaiming, "This is your man, young gentleman; don't waste one word on me at present."
So, rapidly detailing what had happened as we went, I took the man of physic to Marmaduke's bedside. As we entered the room, and first caught sight of his pale features distorted with pain, my companion stood for an instant aghast. "Great Heaven!" murmured he, "I thought the horse had trodden upon the poor lad's forehead; but now, I see it is an old scar."
"No," returned I; "it is not a scar; it is only a mark which in moments of pain or anger comes out more distinctly than at other times. All the Heath family have it. This is Mr. Marmaduke Heath, the nephew of Sir Massingberd."
"Indeed—indeed, sir!" exclaimed the doctor with an accession of sympathy. "Dear me, how sad! What a fine property to risk losing at his time of life. But the eye, you see, gives us hope; the brain has suffered but slightly. He has not been sick, you say—not been sick; he has not been sick, sir."
It was the worthy doctor's habit to reiterate his last sentence in an arrogant manner, as though he had been contradicted on a matter of fact, while in reality his mind was entirely occupied by quite other thoughts. Thus, at the present speaking, he was engaged in manipulating Marmaduke's head, and examining his ribs and limbs with the greatest attention. I waited for his verdict in anxious silence, and presently it was delivered. "It is my opinion, sir, that the young man will live to be a baronet."
Life and Death, the immortalities of Heaven and Hell, were matters that had but small space in Doctor Sitwell's mind compared to this all-important futurity; he was accustomed to them in connection with the merest paupers and persons of no sort of consequence; but it was not every day in the week that a gentleman of Marmaduke's condition was pitched on his head within the Crittenden doctor's professional orbit.
"Mr. Marmaduke Heath must be kept perfectly quiet; he must not be moved from hence upon any consideration—it may be, for weeks. What science can do, through my humble agency, shall be done for the young gentleman; but rest and quiet are essential. Sir Massingberd should be sent for instantly; the responsibility upon my shoulders would otherwise be too great. He will doubtless yearn to be by the bedside of his beloved nephew. You had better arrange with Mr. Gerard for this being done, as I have my round to make, which to-day is all-important. The Hon. Mrs. Flinthert—widow of the late admiral, you know—she requires constant supervision; nature has to be supported; but for brandy, she must have sunk before this. Then Mr. Broadacres, who lives Fairburn way—by the by, that is a very curious case. However, my post is here, of course, until my assistant arrives, who will remain in my absence. You may leave your friend now without the least anxiety. When he awakes to consciousness, you shall be sent for—you shall be sent for, sir."
Upon this, I returned to the drawing-room to give a much more cheerful report of the patient's case than I had ventured to anticipate. I found our host issuing orders for his comfort and attendance, as though he had quite made up his mind to make him his guest for a lengthened period. A noble-looking gentleman he was, as like his daughter as an old man can be to a young girl. Harvey Gerard's face was wrinkled neither by years nor care, though marked here and there with those deep lines which indicate the Thinker—one whom the gods have placed above the drudgery of life, with a disposition to philosophize—a man among men rather than of them, who stands apart from the high-road somewhere half-way up the hill of Fortune, and watches the toilers above and below with a quiet but not cynical smile. "The news you bring me of our patient, Mr. Meredith," said he, "is most welcome; but I think we should still lose no time in communicating with his friends."
"That is also the opinion of Dr. Sitwell, sir; he, too, recommends that my poor friend's nearest relative should be sent for; but in circumstances of this kind, it would be wrong not to say at once that that relative and the invalid here are on the worst of terms, and that his coming would most certainly aggravate any bad symptoms, and retard his cure."