I don't
think he will live. To whom am I speaking?" asked the young
man.
"My name is Mallow. I am Lord Caranby's nephew."
"And the next heir to the title. I fancy you will be called
`my lord' before midnight."
Mallow did not display any pleasure on hearing this. He
valued a title very little and, so far as money was concerned,
had ample for his needs. Besides, he was really fond of his
uncle who, although consistently eccentric, had always been a
kind, good friend. "Will he recover consciousness?"
"I think so," said the doctor doubtfully, "I am not quite
sure. His own medical attendant, knowing his constitution and
its resisting power, will be able to speak more assuredly.
How did this happen?"
Cuthbert, for obvious reasons, explained as little as he
could. "Some old woman came to see my uncle and threw
vitriol at Miss Saxon, the young lady who was with him. He
intercepted the stuff and fell into the fire."
"What a demon! I hope she will be caught."
"She is dead," and Cuthbert related the accident in the
street. The doctor had strong nerves, but he shuddered when
he heard the dreadful story. Nemesis had been less
leaden-footed than usual.
In due time Dr. Yeo, who usually attended Caranby, made his
appearance and stated that his patient would not live many
hours. "He was always weak," said Yeo, "and of late his
weakness increased. The two severe shocks he has sustained
would almost kill a stronger man, let alone an old man of so
delicate an organization.
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