"Mrs. Dinkel, the mother, has been acting as nurse to the Squire ever since Tatham, his body-servant, had to resign his duties on account of ill-health, and it was she who introduced her son at the Hall, but not till her patient had been given up by his doctors and was hardly expected to live from hour to hour.
"As you were told yesterday, this young Dinkel is said to have brought with him a marvellous drug from the Far East, which will almost bring dead people back to life. In any case, it seems certain that he has effected several remarkable cures in the village and neighborhood, and from the date of his first visit to the Hall the Squire began to mend. It appears that he goes there every evening after dark, taking with him a dose of his wonderful medicine, which he will allow no one to administer but himself.
"I have told you already how changed I found the Squire from what he was when I saw him last. It is a change which to me seems little less than miraculous, and yet, so far as can be gathered, it is wholly due to the man Dinkel. Dr. Banks, who has attended the Squire for years, keeps on sending his physic as usual, but Ann Thorpe assures me that the bottles are never as much as uncorked. From what I saw myself to-day, and from what I gathered from Ann, it seems not unlikely that the Squire may last for a year or two, or even longer. But life is made up of crosses, and, however much one may try to convince oneself that everything is ordered for the best, it is sometimes a little difficult to do so."
Captain Ferris shut his penknife with a click. "And what would be the consequence, so far as Mr. Cortelyon is concerned, in case of anything happening to this fellow Dinkel?" he asked.
Mrs. Bullivant lifted her eyebrows. "Really, my dear Wilton, that is a question which I have no means of answering."
"For all that, it is one which might be worth considering."
He got up, stretched himself, crossed to the window, and stood staring out, whistling under his breath. His sister followed him with her eyes. She could read between the lines of his character far more clearly than any one else could.
"In such a case as you speak of, I should think it would be a very bad thing for Mr. Cortelyon," she said after a pause, in a low voice.
"My own opinion exactly," he made answer, without turning round.
The days followed each other till a week had gone by, and Captain Ferris was still at Uplands. Indeed, he knew of nowhere else to go to. London was too hot to hold him; the bailiffs were looking for him high and low. Here at any rate, he could lie by for awhile. But not for long. Hour by hour the day was creeping nearer when the fatal bill for five hundred pounds would fall due. After that not even Uplands would be safe for him. He must put the Channel between himself and the bloodhounds of the law.