Patricia listened intently as the man gave these particulars, and made her way alone to the side of her cousin. He lay upon a bed placed hastily on the floor, his face worn to a shadow with intense suffering of mind and body. As Patricia gazed upon the helpless sufferer, all her love for the man burst forth; she knelt down, covered her face with her hands, and wept piteously.
The woman who stood by, with true woman’s instinct, guessed the nature of her sorrow, and said gently: ‘You see, miss, the gentleman would not say who he were, or we should ha’ sent before. I have done what I could; but I fear he’s very, very bad.’ She wanted to break the truth as gently as she could, for her experienced eye had noted every change.
‘I am dying,’ said Oliver in a low voice. ‘’Tis nearly over, Patricia; but the pain has almost left me; and if I have strength, I must tell you a very painful story, for I need your forgiveness, as you will find. Do not grieve for me, Patricia.’ He paused. ‘Are you alone?’
Patricia shook her head.
‘Who is with you?’
‘Colonel Lindsay.’
‘Tell him to come here.’
At this crisis, wheels were heard outside, and Colonel Lindsay returned with Patricia, bringing with them Mr Downes, the surgeon.
‘Mr Downes is here,’ said the Colonel, ‘through a message which I sent him previous to leaving home; he will probably think it advisable to remain with us for a time.’
Then Patricia knew that the surgeon was there not only in his medical capacity, but as a witness to whatever might fall from the lips of her lover; and yet her dread of any unpleasant revelation was intensified by her great love for the man whose humiliation and shame she would fain have spared. Mr Downes having carefully examined the patient, administered a restorative, and Oliver related with pain and difficulty the following story.