“Doctor,” said he in a hurried tone, “lawyer Skinwell has just got thrown out of his gig, and is almost killed. He has been insensible ever since.” “Ah! Impossible!” exclaimed Rowel starting to his feet with surprise. “Are you sure, man?” “It is quite true, sir,” replied he, as though scarcely knowing what to make of the doctor's strange manner, the latter gentleman regarding him for a moment with an eye of unaccountable incredulity; for the idea had instantaneously flashed across his mind that he might be deceived by his own imagination, and that it was only the devil that was tempting him. A minute or two elapsed; when, recovering himself, he replied in a more subdued and professional tone, “I will be there immediately,” on which the man disappeared. “Now then,” thought Rowel, “is the time! Had I asked for it,--designed it myself,--I could not have made it better. Thrown out, and _insensible_. He cannot, therefore, know anything of what I do. And as nobody else knows of our differences, nobody will think otherwise than that I am doing for the best. Who shall question my practice? Even if it be inquired into,--if it come to anything that way,--they may arraign my judgment, but can do nothing else.” The doctor went immediately into his dispensary, dismissed his assistant upon some frivolous errand, and closed the door after him. Some minutes he remained compounding drugs with his own hand; after which he mounted his pony, which had been saddled in the mean time, and rode rapidly off to the lawyer's house. “Send all these people out!” somewhat sharply exclaimed the doctor, as, in passing up stairs, he cast his eye upon the numerous assembly of “sympathisers,” who had gathered in the passage and about the foot of the staircase. Fanny dismissed them, and then, accompanied by Colin, went up stairs into the room in which the unfortunate man had been laid upon a bed, and whither also Dr. Rowel had directed his steps. In the first place, the lawyer was very copiously bled; after which the doctor administered a powder with his own hands, and gave instructions that, in the course of about an hour, if Mr. Skinwell appeared more recovered, another of a similar description should be given. He then very strictly charged Fanny not to allow any person to visit him, and to prevent him talking in case he should attempt to speak, as silence and quietness were highly essential to any patient in his condition. Promising that he should call again in the course of the night, the doctor then took his leave, though not until he had privately drawn Fanny aside, and fully satisfied himself that Mr. Skinwell had not discovered to her any material portion of that secret which he so greatly dreaded should come to her knowledge.