“Good-day.”
He took the hand she offered, and then watched her as she descended the stairs.
But, instead of following her, he paused on the landing, and presently returned to his room.
“Shall I take advantage of this declaration she has made,” he thought, “and pretend to humor it? In that way I might lead her on and find out something about Haywood, for she says he has secret dealings with her father. And, besides, if I spurn her she will expose me. Therewas danger in her eyes when she made the threat, and she is just of that passionate nature to carry it out. But what a mean, contemptible deception it would be to profess love for her. No, I will not be guilty of it. Let the worst come before I so degrade myself. Oh, what a situation! It compels immediate action, and strengthens my determination to begin investigations without delay. I’ll no longer be a lay-figure; I’ll ACT!”
He quitted his teaching-room, and went across the street to his hotel. But he could eat no supper, the feeling of languor, pain, and feverishness increased.
In some concern he went up stairs, threw off his coat and boots, and laid himself on the bed. In two hours he felt decidedly worse, and sent a messenger for Doctor Davison. It will be remembered that this was the physician that had offered him the timely advice on the morning of his arrest, and had subsequently attended him in the jail. Carlos naturally sent for him, having had previous evidence of his skill, as well as a kindly feeling toward him.
Doctor Davison shortly arrived and examined the patient. His manner was cheerful, but an unmistakably graver look quickly came upon his face.
“You must undress and go to bed, young man,” he said.
“Vat for?” asked Carlos, resuming the German accent.
“Because you are going to be sick.”