"
To this the Young Doctor had replied firmly: "Yes, I'm coming out
to-morrow. She's not fit yet to go to Askatoon, and I must see her once
again."
"Oh, keep coming--that's right, keep coming!" answered the miserly old
man, who still was not so miserly that he did not want his young wife
blooming. "Coming to-morrow, eh!" he added, with something very like a
sneer.
The other had a sudden flash of fury pass through his veins. The old
Celtic quickness to resent insult swept over him. The ire of his
forefathers waked in him. This outrageous old Caliban, to attempt to
sneer at him! For an instant he was Kilkenny let loose, and then the
cool, trained brain reasserted its mastery, and he replied:
"If there should be a turn for the worse, send for me to-night--not
to-morrow!" And he looked the old man in the eyes with a steady, steelly
glance which had nothing to do with the words he had just uttered, but
was the challenge of a conquering spirit.
The Young Doctor had acted with an almost uncanny prescience. It was as
though he had foreseen that Orlando Giuse would be carried upstairs to a
room nearly opposite that of Louise, and laid unconscious on a bed, till
he himself should come again that very night and extract a bullet from
Orlando's side; that he would open Orlando's eyes to consciousness, hear
Orlando say, "Where am I?" and note his startled look when told he was at
Tralee.
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