Mrs. Dinkel remained at Stanbrook, nor, although he was so much better, would her patient listen to a word about her departure. Perhaps it seemed to him that so long as he could succeed in retaining her services he would have a firmer hold on those of her son. Besides, his man Tatham was not yet able to resume his duties.
So interested was young Dinkel in the case of Mr. Cortelyon that for the present he made up his mind to stay where he was. As his mother had told the Squire, the object of his life now was to take his discovery to London, and build up a fortune on the strength of it. But he was gifted with the patience, slow but sure, of his father's race, and was content to wait.
By this time it had got rumored about the country-side that the Squire's amazing recovery was due to Dinkel, or rather, to the effect of some magic compound he had brought with him from abroad. Further, it was commonly reported that so long as Dinkel continued to practise his arts on the old man, the latter would not, or could not, die. Among others, the whisper went that the Squire had sold himself, body and soul, to the young doctor on condition of his life being prolonged till he was a hundred.
These rumors were not lessened by Dinkel's mode of life. He had fitted up an old shed at the back of his mother's cottage, and there he conducted his experiments. Strange-colored flames would often be seen issuing from its chimney after dark, and one or two bolder spirits, who had ventured to pry upon him, averred that they had seen him warming his hands at a big glass jar which gave off blue sparks when he touched it. Evidently he was a man to be both shunned and feared.
But the love of life burns strongly in us. Not merely are we desirous of prolonging our own existence, but the lives of those dear to us, and among the villagers were three mothers who, their children having been given up by the local doctor, went to Cornelius Dinkel as a last resource, and prayed him with tears in their eyes to try to save their little ones. He did try, and in two cases out of the three he succeeded.
Still, the country people, with their ingrained superstitious prejudices, fought shy of him, and regarded him with a suspicion that was largely mixed with dislike. "He's a man-witch, that's what he is," they muttered among themselves. If he could prolong "th' owd Squire's" life, why couldn't he save Molly Grigg's child?--and why didn't he try his hand on old Tommy Binns, who was only eighty-seven when he died?
[CHAPTER XII.]
A STARTLING RECOGNITION.
In view of the astonishing and wholly unexpected change for the better in Mr. Cortelyon's condition, it became manifest to Miss Baynard that, even if she had succeeded in despoiling Mr. Tew of the will, her doing so would have been to no purpose, seeing that her uncle had lived long enough to make half-a-dozen others had he been so inclined. She could not help cherishing a faint hope that, now a fresh lease of life had mercifully been granted him, he would see fit to change his mind in the matter of his grandson, and, either by means of a codicil to his present will, or the drawing-up of a new will, repair, in a greater or lesser degree, the act of cruel injustice of which he had been guilty.
But as time passed on Nell's hope faded and died. No allusion to his will ever passed her uncle's lips, or she would have heard of it from Andry Luce. It seemed that he was satisfied to let it stand unchanged.