"To my brother's first—Arthur is seriously ill, and I must get hold of evidence that Walter can supply—then on to Lansdale with all speed to rescue Elsie from the wiles of a gambling, swindling, hypocritical, fortune-hunting rascal!"
At a very early hour of the next morning, Walter Dinsmore was roused from his slumbers by, a knock at his door.
"Who's there?" he asked, starting up in bed.
"I, Walter," answered a well-known voice, and with a joyful exclamation he sprang to the door, and opened it.
"Horace! how glad I am to see you! I hardly dared hope you could get here so soon."
"Your news was of the sort to hasten a man's movements," returned Mr. Dinsmore, holding the lad's hand in a warm brotherly grasp. "How are you? and how's Arthur now?"
"About the same. Hark! you may hear him moaning and muttering. This is our study. I have had that cot-bed brought in here, and given up the bedroom to him and the nurse; though I'm with him a good deal too."
"You have a good nurse, and the best medical advice?"
"Yes."
"You must see that he has every comfort, Walter; let no expense be spared, nothing left undone that may alleviate his sufferings or assist his recovery. What is the physician's opinion of the case?"