young mrs. gardiner looked fearfully and eagerly into the face of the stern-countenanced old doctor who had just entered and had stepped up hurriedly to his patient's bedside.
he had heard from the messenger who had come for him just what had occurred to jay gardiner, and he was greatly puzzled.
"the toothache drops you speak of were compounded by me," he declared, "and they certainly do not act as you describe. ten drops would produce balmy sleep. an overdose acts as an emetic, and would not remain a moment's time on the stomach. that is their chief virtue—in rendering an overdose harmless. i am confident the mischief can not lie with the toothache drops."
doctor baker had entered and gone directly to the bedside of his patient, as we have said, simply nodding to miss margaret, and not waiting for an introduction to the bride. the moment his eyes fell upon his patient, he gave a start of surprise.
"ah," he muttered, "my case of instruments! hand them to me quickly. this is a case of life or death! not an instant's time is to be lost. i dare not wait for the coming of the consulting physicians who have been sent for."
"what are you about to do?" cried sally, springing forward, her eyes gleaming.
"i am about to perform a critical operation to save my patient's life, if it be possible. every instant of time is valuable."
"i say it shall not be done!" cried young mrs. gardiner. "i, his wife, command that you do not proceed until the rest of the doctors sent for arrive and sanction such an action!"
the old doctor flushed hotly. never, in all the long years of his practice, had his medical judgment ever been brought into question before, and at first, anger and resentment rose in quick rebellion in his heart; the next instant he had reasoned with himself that this young wife should be pardoned for her words, which had been uttered in the greatest stress of excitement.
"my dear mrs. gardiner—for such i presume you to be—your interference at this critical moment, attempting to thwart my judgment, would—ay, i say would—prove fatal to your husband. this is a moment when a physician must act upon his own responsibility, knowing that a human life depends upon his swiftness and his skill, i beg of you to leave all to me."
"i say it shall not be!" cried sally, flinging herself across her husband's prostrate body. "touch him at your peril, doctor baker!"
for an instant all in the apartment were almost dumbfounded. miss margaret was the first to recover herself.
"sally," she said, approaching her sister-in-law slowly, her blue eyes looking stealthily down into the glittering, frenzied green ones, "come with me. you want to save jay's life, don't you? put down that knife, and come with me. you are wasting precious moments that may mean life or death to the one we both love. let me plead with you, on my knees, if need be, to come with me, dear."
sally gardiner stood at bay like a lioness. quick as a flash, she had thought out the situation.
if jay gardiner died, she would be free to fly with victor lament. if she refused to allow the doctor to touch him, he would die, and never discover the loss of the diamonds, or that she had borrowed money from his friends on leaving newport.
if he died, she would be a wealthy woman for life, and she would never be obliged to look again into the face of the handsome husband whom she hated—the husband who hated her, and who did not take the pains to conceal it in his every act each day since he had married her.
ah! if he only died here and now it would save her from all the ills that menaced her and were closing in around her. this was her opportunity. fate—fortune had put the means of saving herself in her hands.
even the good doctor was sorely perplexed. he saw that young mrs. gardiner was a desperate woman, and that she meant what she said.
"will nothing under heaven cause you to relent?" cried margaret, wringing her hands, her splendid courage breaking down completely under the great strain of her agony. "my poor mother lies in the next room in a death-like swoon, caused by the knowledge of her idolized son's fatal illness. if he should die, she would never see another morning's sun after she learned of it. one grave would cover both."
