He obeyed the doctor's orders mechanically. His mind was focussed on the time for the train to leave and in the interval he did not care what they did with him. So he let himself be put into a bare little white room, heavy with the smell of disinfectants, while a nurse in a blue uniform and a young house surgeon in white and a silent footed orderly moved about him.
The nurse's blue dress reminded him of another blue gown, one for which he used to watch at the office window on summer mornings. He followed it with his eyes, as the great surgeon took him in hand and examined and questioned him. He answered mechanically, his parched lips uttering things with which his fevered brain seemed to have no interest.
He listened in a detached way, as though the doctor were speaking of some one else as, with many technical terms, he diagnosed the case. Doctor Nicholls was there, and two young house surgeons, all eagerly listening, but the patient's mind was away in the old farm house on the shore of Lake Algonquin desperately seeking relief from its suspense.
He scarcely noticed when they left the room, but he came to himself completely when they returned, and Dr. Nicholls announced to him briskly and almost joyfully that Dr. Berger's ultimatum was an immediate operation.
"No, you won't," said the patient with sudden vigour. "I have to leave this afternoon for home on the three-fifteen."
The great man looked down at him. "Young man," he said quietly, and there was a still strength in his manner that carried conviction, "you will do as you please of course, but if you don't take my advice and have that limb attended to immediately, you'll go to your long home, and not much later than 3.15 either. Yours is a most critical case. If you refuse you are committing suicide. Now, Doctor Nicholls, I have just half-an-hour to see your other patients."
He walked out of the room. And Roderick sat up in the bed and stared after them stupefied. A young house-surgeon, who had been regarding the patient with eyes holding more than professional interest, came to his side. He tried to speak cheerfully.
"It's a most unusual thing to operate in such a hurry, but it's better for a patient, I think. It's all over quickly you know, and no long weary waiting."
"But my father!" cried Roderick. "My father is critically ill. I've got to go home! I've got to, I tell you! I can have this done—later—at home."
The fever flush deepened to a hot crimson. He got to his feet, then staggered back, dizzy with pain. The young physician laid him on the bed. "Look here, now, you mustn't get worked up like that, Roderick," he said.