“Cruel creature! Do not mention it.”
“Cruel! The poor man blessed me in his heart. Did I not relieve him from the most intense suffering?”
“Well, never mind. I hope there will be no more calls to-night.”
“So do I. Where is the book? I will read again.” No more interruptions. Another hour, and all, are sleeping quietly.
Midnight has passed, when the sound of the bell falls on the doctor's wakeful ear. As quickly as possible he answers it in person, but another peal is heard ere he reaches the door.
A gentleman to whose family he has frequently been called, appears.
“Oh! doctor, lose not a moment; my little Willie is dying with the croup!”
There is no resisting this appeal. The still wet overcoat and boots are drawn on; medicine case hastily seized, and the doctor rushes forth again into the storm.
Pity for his faithful horse induces him to traverse the distance on foot, and a rapid walk of half a mile brings him to the house.
It was no needless alarm. The attack was a severe one, and all his skill was required to save the life of the little one. It was daylight ere he could leave him with safety. Then, as he was about departing for his own home, an express messenger arrived to entreat him to go immediately to another place nearly a mile in an opposite direction.