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Monsieur, it is with regret I announce that the majority of our citizen, who so dislike Monsieur Benton and his views, are much in favor of riding upon a rail, after due treatment of the tar and the feather, him who lately was their idol; that is to say, yourself, Monsieur!" Dunwody, his face grim, leaned against the door of the little shop. "So that is the news?" said he.
Scarce touching his hand, she stepped down. Dunwody motioned to the driver to advance, and in spite of the protests of the maid Jeanne, thus left alone within, the coach rolled on up the driveway ahead of them. It was in fact a beautiful prospect which lay before the travelers thus arrived.
If I were as young and strong as you are, I'd have my arm broken twice a week, just for fun." "Doctor, you're going!" she exclaimed. "But you must do something for me you must be my friend." "Certainly, my dear, why not? But how can I help you? Dunwody's pledged me to professional secrecy, you know." He grinned, "Not that even Warv' Dunwody can run me very much."
Returning, he motioned Dunwody to remove his coat, which he folded up for a pillow. The remainder of his preparations necessarily were scant. Hot water, clean instruments that was almost all. An anaesthetic was of course out of the question. "Dunwody, we're going to hurt you a little," said Jamieson, at last. "You've got to stand it, that's all. Lie down there on the table and get ready."
Dunwody for the time left him, and began moodily to pace apart, up and down the gallery. Here presently he was approached by Jeanne, the maid. "Madame will speak to you!" announced that person loftily, and turned away scornfully before he had time to reply. Eager, surprised, he hastened up the stair and once more was at her bedside. "Yes?" he said. "Did you wish me for anything?"
Halt!" came from the line of sleepers suddenly awakened. In an instant both parties were under arms. It spoke well for the temper of the men with Dunwody, perhaps better for his serious counsel of them, that none of them made any answer. Silently, like so many shadows, they dropped down to the ground. "What was that, Kammerer?" cried a voice on the boat, calling down to some one on the shore.
The travel-stained figures of Doctor Jamieson, Judge Clayton and the Honorable William Jones met the Dunwody coach just as it was leaving at the upper end of St. Genevieve's main street. They also had found fresh horses, and in the belief of Dunwody it was quite as well that they rode horseback, in common with the followers of Hector, who presently came trooping after him.
It might have been a fortress, an island, a hospital, a prison, all in one. At length Dunwody was able safely to leave his room and to take up a resting place occasionally in the large library across the hall. Here one day by accident she met him. He did not at first note her coming, and she had opportunity now carefully to regard him, as he stood moodily looking out over the lawn.
Her eye fell on the weapon lying on the bed. She gently removed it. "That was what he preferred to my skill," commented Jamieson. Dunwody turned, his gaze on Josephine now. "You don't belong here, now," said he at length. "You'd better go away." "This is just where she does belong!" contradicted Jamieson. "If she has courage to stay here, I want her. I've got to have help.
Her first distinct feeling was one of wonder that Dunwody himself should be the first to bend over her, and that on his face there should seem surprise, regret, grief. How could he feign such things? She pushed at his face, panting, silent. Jeanne now was there Jeanne, tearful, excited, wringing her hands, offering aid; but in spite of Jeanne, Dunwody raised Josephine in his arms.
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