Jack went to the bedside and bent over the motionless figure, and looked at the dull, white face.
‘My poor Zaïre, this is bad,’ he murmured, and then he turned to the stranger, who had risen and stood beside him. ‘You are the doctor, I suppose?’
‘I am the watch-dog, if you like. Mr. Smolendo would not trust my inexperience with so delicate an operation as setting the broken leg. It was a terrible fracture, and required the highest art. He sent for Sir John Pelham, and everything has been done well and successfully. But he allowed me to remain as surgeon in charge. Your wife’s state is perilous in the extreme. I fear the brain is injured. I was in the theatre when the accident happened. I am deeply interested in this case. I have lately passed my examination creditably, and am a qualified practitioner. I shall be glad if you will allow me to attend your wife—under Pelham, of course. It is not a question of remuneration,’ the young man added hurriedly. ‘I am actuated only by my professional interest in Madame Chicot’s recovery.’
‘I have no objection to my wife’s profiting by your generous care, provided always that Sir John Pelham approves your treatment,’ answered Chicot, in a calmer tone than George Gerard expected from a man who had just come home after a week’s absence to find his wife in peril of death. ‘Do you think she will recover?’
This question was asked deliberately, with intense earnestness. Gerard saw that the eyes which looked at him were watching for the answering look in his own eyes, waiting as for the sentence of doom.
That look set the surgeon wondering as to the relations between husband and wife. A minute ago he had wondered at Chicot’s coldness—a tranquillity that seemed almost indifference. Now the man was all intensity. What did the change mean?
‘Am I to tell you the truth?’ asked Gerard.
‘By all means.’
‘Remember I can give you only my opinion. It is an obscure case. The injury to the brain is not easily to be estimated.’
‘I will take your opinion for what it is worth. For God’s sake be candid.’