“Yes.”
“And you have been here these several months past under the name of Karl Zikoff.”
“I have. You will not betray me? At least not as long as I am lying here sick?”
“Betray you? No. That’s not my trade. My business is to cure you.”
“Thank you, thank you,” said Carlos, in a weak whisper, as he sank back on his pillow.
With the coolness which physicians must at all times be prepared to simulate, Dr. Davison said:
“Now, my dear sir, don’t let this worry you another minute. You can trust me to keep your secret, and see you through all right. But it is absolutely necessary——Hallo!”
The doctor’s words had fallen upon unheeding ears, for his patient had fainted.
Doctor Davison set about restoring him, muttering the while:
“Strange! mighty strange! What on earth could have tempted the fellow to be so rash? Confound him! he doesn’t look like a murderer.I shall not expose him, at all events. But he will be apt to rave, and betray himself. This should be guarded against, for I want to talk to him more when he is able to endure it. Let me see! I have it! I’ll telegraph for my brother, who is studying medicine at Skimmerton College. He’s an excellent nurse, and the experience will be a good one for him.”