He had forfeited his life for the brandy he had taken just a little while before, which utterly unfitted him to make an effort to get out of the building.
Jay Gardiner, sick at heart, turned away with a groan. He must go to Bernardine at once; but, Heaven help her! how could he break the news of her great loss to her?
As he was deliberating on what course to pursue, a hand was suddenly laid on his shoulder, and a voice said, lustily:
"By all that is wonderful, I can scarcely believe my eyes, Jay Gardiner, that this is you! I expected you were at this moment hundred of miles away from New York. But, heavens! how ill you look! Your clothes are covered with dust. What can be the matter with you, Jay?"
Turning suddenly at the sound of the familiar voice, Doctor Gardiner found himself face to face with the young physician who took charge of his office while he was away.
"Come with me; you shall not tell me now, nor talk. Come to the office, and let me fix up something for you, or you will have a spell of sickness."
And without waiting to heed Jay Gardiner's expostulations—that he must go somewhere else first—he called a passing cab, and hustled him into it.
Owing to his splendid physique, he felt quite as good as new the next morning, save for the pain in his head, where he had fallen upon the stone flagging of the wine cellar.
Without any more loss of time than was absolutely necessary, he set out for the old nurse's house, at which he had left Bernardine two days before. He had half expected to find her ill, and he was not a little surprised when she came to the door in answer to his summons.
"Mrs. Gray is out," she said, "and I saw you coming, Doctor Gardiner, and oh, I could not get here quick enough to see you and thank you for what you have done for me—risked your own life to save a worthless one like mine."