“But you have been ill,” she continued, sympathetically; “this wreck must have—pray sit down.”
She placed a little stool for her visitor beside the fire.
If Dr John Marsh had spoken the words that sprang to his lips he would have begun with “Angelic creature,” but he suppressed his feelings and only stammered—
“Your b–brother, Miss Rigonda, must have a taste for taking people by surprise, for he did not tell me that—that—I—I mean he did not prepare me for—for—you are right. I think I had better sit down, for I have, as you perceive, been very ill, and am rather weak, and—and in the circumstances such an unexpected—a—”
At this critical moment Dominick fortunately entered the cave and rescued the doctor from the quicksand in which he was floundering.
“Oh! you must be the very man I want,” he said, grasping his visitor by the hand.
“That is strange,” returned the doctor, with a languid smile, “seeing that you have never met me before.”
“True, my good sir; nevertheless I may venture to say that I know you well, for there’s a termagant of an Irish woman down at the camp going about wringing her hands, shouting out your good qualities in the most pathetic tones, and giving nobody a moment’s peace because she does not know what has become of you. Having a suspicion that my brother must have found you and brought you here, I came to see. But pray, may I ask your name, for the Irish woman only describes you as ‘Doctor, dear!’”
“Allow me to introduce him,” cried Otto, “as an old friend of mine—Dr Marsh.”
Dominick looked at his brother in surprise.