die, doctor?" I cried. "Is the wound likely to befatal?"
"I really can't tell," he answered gravely. "It is a very seriousinjury--very. No ordinary knife could inflict such a wound. From theappearance of it I should be inclined to think that a long surgeon'sknife was used."
"But is there no hope?" I demanded. "Tell me the truth."
"It is impossible at present to tell what complications may ensue," heresponded. "The best course is to inform the police of the affair, andlet them make inquiries. No doubt there has been a most deliberateattempt at murder. Your servant tells me," he added, "that the lady isa friend of yours."
"Yes," I said; "I intend making her my wife; therefore you may imaginemy intense anxiety in these terrible circumstances."
"Of course," he replied, sympathetically. "But have you any suspicionof who perpetrated this villainous crime?"
I thought of that thin, crafty, bony-faced scoundrel Hibbert, and thenresponded in the affirmative.
"Well, you'd better inform the police of your suspicions, and let themact as they think proper. I've seen the spot where your frienddiscovered her, and certainly it is just the spot where an assassinmight lie in wait, commit a crime, and then escape into the streetunseen. My advice is that you should inform the police, and let themmake inquiries. I only make one stipulation, and that is that noquestion must be asked of her at present--either by you, or by any oneelse. If you'll allow me I'll send down a qualified nurse, whom I cantrust to carry out my instructions--for I presume you intend that sheshould remain here in your chambers until she is fit to be removed?"
"Certainly," I answered eagerly. "I leave all to you, doctor; onlybring her back to me."
"I will do my utmost," he assured me. "It is a grave case, a very graveone indeed," he added, with his eyes fixed upon the inanimate form; "butI have every hope that we shall save her by care and attention. I'll goback to the surgery, get some dressing for the wound, and send at oncefor the nurse. No time must be lost."
"And you think I ought to inform the police?" I asked.
"As you think fit," the doctor responded. "You say you have a suspicionof the identity of the would-be assassin. Surely you will not let himgo unpunished?"
"No!" I cried in fierce resolution. "He shall not go unpunished." Buton reflection an instant later it occurred to me that Muriel herselfcould tell us who had attacked her, therefore it would be best to awaitin patience her return to health.
The doctor left to obtain his instruments and bandages, while Bryant,Simes, and myself watched almost in silence at her bedside. Thekind-hearted old doctor before he went, however, asked us to leave theroom for a few minutes, and when we returned we found he had taken offher outer clothing, improvised a temporary bandage, and placed hercomfortably in bed, where she now lay quite still, and to allappearances asleep. From time to time in my anxiety I bent with my handglass placed close to her mouth to reassure myself that she was stillbreathing. It became slightly clouded each time, and that gave me theutmost satisfaction and confidence.
After a quarter of an hour the old man returned, while a little laterthe nurse, in her neat grey uniform, was in the room, attending to herpatient, quickly and silently, and assisting the doctor to cleanse andbandage the wound with a dexterity which had been acquired by longacquaintance with surgical cases.
With Bryant I retired into the sitting-room while these operations werein progress, and when I again entered my bedroom I found the lightslowered and the nurse calmly sitting by Muriel's side. Then the doctorassured me that she would be quite right for three hours, and thatduring the night he would look in again; and with this partingre-assurance he left, accompanied out by Bryant.
Through that night I had but little repose, as may be imagined. Thelong hours I spent in trying to read or otherwise occupy myself, butsuch was the intensity of my anxiety that times without number I wentand peeped in at the half-open door of my bedroom, wherein lay mybeloved, motionless, still as one dead.
A whole week went by. Two or three times daily the doctor called, butby his orders I was not allowed in the room, and it was not until nearlya fortnight had gone by that I entered and stood by her bedside. Eventhen I was forbidden to mention the circumstances of that night whensuch a desperate attempt had been made upon her life. Therefore I stoodby her with words of love only upon my lips.
Ours was a joyful meeting. For days my love had hovered between lifeand death. The doctor had gone into that room and come out again graveand silent several times each day, until at last he had told me that shehad taken a turn for the better, and would recover. The delirium hadleft her, and she had recovered consciousness. Then there came to me aboundless joy when at last I was told that I might again see her.
Not until ten more long and anxious days had passed was I allowed tospeak to her regarding the mystery which was driving me to desperation,and then one afternoon, as the sunset, yellow as it always is in London,struggled into the room, I found myself alone with her. She was sittingup in my armchair, enveloped in a pretty blue dressing-gown which thenurse had bought for her, and her hair tied coquettishly with a blueribbon.
She could not rise, but as I entered her bright eyes sparkled withsudden unbounded delight, and speechless in emotion she beckoned meforward to a seat beside her.
"And you are much better, dearest?" I asked, when we had exchangedkisses full of a profound and passionate love.
"Yes," she answered, in a voice which showed how weak she still was."The doctor says I shall get on quite well now. In a week or so I hopeto be about again. Do they know of my illness at the shop?"
"Don't trouble about the shop, darling," I answered. "You will never goback there again, to slave and wear out your life. Remain here content,and when you are well enough you can go down to Stamford and stay therein the country air until we can marry."
"Then you still love me, Clifton?" she faltered.
"Love you!" I cried. "Of course I do, dearest. What causes you todoubt me?"
She hesitated. Her eyes met mine, and I saw they were wavering.
"Because--because I am unworthy," she faltered.
"Why unworthy?" I asked, quickly.
"I have deceived you," she replied. "You are so good to me, Clifton,yet I have concealed from you the truth."
"The truth of what?"
"Of the strange events which have led up to this desperate attempt totake my life."
"But who attacked you?" I demanded. "Tell me, and assuredly he shallnot escape punishment."
She paused. Her eyes met mine firmly.
"No," she answered. "It is impossible to tell you. To attempt aretaliation would only prove fatal."
"Fatal!" I echoed. "Why?"
"All that has been attempted is of the past," she responded. "It isbest that it should remain as it is. If you seek out that man, therewill be brought upon us a vengeance more terrible than it is possible tocontemplate. Do not ask me to divulge the identity of this man, for Icannot."
"You will not, you mean," I said in a hard voice.
"No," she answered hoarsely. "No, I dare not."
"Then you fear this man who has attempted to kill you--this man whosought to take you from me!" I cried fiercely. "Surely I, the man youare to marry, have a right to demand this assassin's name."
"You have a right, Clifton, the greatest of all rights, but I beg of youto remain patient," she answered calmly. "There are reasons why I muststill preserve a silence on this matter--reasons which some day you willknow."
"Does this man love you?"
She shrugged her shoulders and extended her thin, white hands vaguely.
"And he is jealous of me!" I cried. "He attempted to kill you becauseyou came here to me."
"Remain in patience, I beg of you," she said imploringly. "Make nosurmises, for you cannot guess the truth. It is an enigma to which Imyself have no key."
"The name of the man who has attempted to murder you is Hibbert," Iobserved, annoyed
at her persistent concealment of the truth. "He isthe man who was your lover. You can't deny it."
She raised her beautiful eyes for a moment to mine, then said simply--
"Surely you trust me, Clifton?"
Her question drove home to me the fact that my suspicion wasill-founded, and that jealousy in this affair was untimely andunnecessary. I, however, could not rid myself of the thought thatHibbert, this lover she had discarded, had attempted to wreak a deadlyrevenge. All the circumstances pointed to it, for he would know thewhereabouts of my chambers, if not from
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