He rose, threw away his cigar, and at this signal the group scattered. Renault, Margaret, and Isabelle went back to the bare living room, where the doctor stood silently in front of the fireplace for a few minutes, as though expecting his guests to leave. When they started, he threw open a long window and beckoned to Isabelle to follow him. Outside there was a broad platform running out over the crest of the hill on which the house was built. The land beyond fell away sharply, then rose in a wooded swell to the northern mountains. The night was dark with glittering starlight above, and the presence of the white masses of the hills could be felt rather than seen,—brooding under the stars. There was the tinkle of a sleigh-bell on the road below,—the only sound in the still night.
"There!" Renault exclaimed. "Is there anything you would like to swap for this?"
He breathed deeply of the frosty air.
"It seems almost as if a voice were speaking in the silence!"
"Yes," Renault assented gravely. "There is a voice, and you can hear it up here—if you listen."
CHAPTER LVII
On their way home the two women discussed the doctor eagerly.
"I must have seen Dr. Renault somewhere," Isabelle said, "or rather what he might have been once. He's a person!"
"That is it,—he is a person,—not just a doctor or a clever surgeon."
"Has he other regular patients besides the children, the surgical cases?"