"I dare say you would sleep heavily yourself, Haidee, if you had been drugged as I was yesterday," retorted the young girl, good-humoredly. "And really, I am feeling ill and weary this morning. This warm weather and close confinement begin to tell on my health sadly. Perhaps I may escape you yet through the welcome gates of death."
"No danger of that," was the quick reply. "Youth and health can bear much more than you have had to stand yet, my fine lady."
She went out and did not return until noon. Her prisoner lay dressed upon the bed with flushed and burning cheeks and strangely glittering eyes.
"Haidee," she said, "I cannot eat my dinner. I am feeling very strangely. I have a dreadful feeling here." She pressed her hand upon her heart and seemed to gasp for breath. "Go, send for the doctor as quickly as possible. Perhaps I am about to die!"
Haidee looked at her in doubt a moment. The suffering aspect of the captive reassured her. She was evidently ill.
"I will send at once for Doctor Pratt," said she, leaving the room in haste, but not forgetting to lock the door.
"I have sent old Peter for the doctor," said she, returning "but it may be several hours before he returns. It is a long way to the city."
"Sit down and stay with me, then, Haidee. I am afraid to remain alone when I feel so strangely."
Ten, fifteen minutes elapsed, then the patient said, faintly:
"Haidee, for the love of Heaven, try and get me a glass of wine! Perhaps it may relieve this wild fluttering and palpitation of my heart!"