If Hartley was governed by fear, well and good. If not, Isaacson would stand a scene, provoke a scandal, even defy Nigel for his own sake. Would that be necessary?
Well, he would soon know. He would know that night. Hartley had promised to summon him in consultation that night.
"Meanwhile I simply must rest."
He spoke to himself as a doctor. And at last he went below, lay down in his cabin with the wooden shutters drawn over the windows, and closed his eyes. He had little hope of sleep. But sleep presently came. When he woke, he heard voices quite near him. They seemed to come from the water. He lay still and listened. They were natives' voices talking violently. He began to get up. As he put his feet to the floor, he heard a knock.
"Come in!" he called.
Hassan put in his head.
"The gentleman him here!"
"What gentleman? Not Doctor Hartley?"
"The sick gentleman."
Nigel! Was it possible? Isaacson sprang up and hurried on deck. There was a boat from the Loulia alongside, and on the upper deck was Doctor Hartley walking restlessly about. He heard Isaacson and turned sharply.