I begged Miss Ambient to go up and try to have speech of her sister-in-law, and I drew Mark out into the garden. "You're exceedingly nervous, and Mrs. Ambient is probably right," I said to him. "Women know; women should be supreme in such a situation. Trust a mother—a devoted mother, my dear friend!" With such words as these I tried to soothe and comfort him, and, marvellous to relate, I succeeded, with the help of many cigarettes, in making him walk about the garden and talk, or listen at least to my own ingenious chatter, for nearly an hour. At the end of this time Miss Ambient returned to us, with a very rapid step, holding her hand to her heart.
"Go for the doctor, Mark, go for the doctor this moment!"
"Is he dying? Has she killed him?" poor Ambient cried, flinging away his cigarette.
"I don't know what she has done! But she's frightened, and now she wants the doctor."
"He told me he would be hanged if he came back!" I felt myself obliged to announce.
"Precisely—therefore Mark himself must go for him, and not a messenger. You must see him, and tell him it's to save your child. The trap has been ordered—it's ready."
"To save him? I 'll save him, please God!" Ambient cried, bounding with his great strides across the lawn.
As soon as he had gone I felt that I ought to have
