Hume had kept his promise anent the barber. He no longer desired to alter his appearance in any way, and had only grown a beard on account of his sensitiveness regarding his two trials at the Assizes.
But the fun of the affair had quite gone.
Helen was pale, David greatly perturbed.
“A terrible thing has happened,” he said, in a low voice, when he grasped the barrister’s hand. “Someone tried to kill Bob an hour ago.”
The blank amazement on Brett’s face caused him to add hurriedly:
“It is quite true. He had the narrowest escape. He is in bed now. The doctor is examining him. We have secured the next room to his, and Margaret is there with a nurse.”
The barrister made no reply, but accompanied them to Frazer’s apartment. In the adjoining room they found Margaret, terribly scared, but listening eagerly to the doctor’s cheery optimism.
“It is nothing,” he was saying, “a severe squeeze, some slight abrasions, and a great nervous shock, quite serious in its nature, although your friend makes light of it, and wishes to get up at once. I think, however—”
A nurse entered.
“The patient insists upon my leaving the room,” she cried angrily. “He is dressing.”