"I think Dr. Symes ought to be sent for at once, my lady," she said. "Sandie Mackenzie had very high fever an hour ago, but I didn't like his looks, and I have just taken his temperature again. It is below normal, and that is the worst that can happen, suddenly like this. Dr. Symes told me to send for him if there was a change for the worse, and I thought I had better come and tell his lordship." Maud got up. "You did quite right to come and tell us, nurse," she said. "I will have him sent for at once. Is it very serious?" "Yes, my lady; it means perforation," she said. "I don't know that it is any good to send for the doctor, but one must do what one can." Maud nodded. "Thank you," she said; "I will see to it." * * * * * The nurse left the room, going back to her patients; but Maud stood there for a moment without moving, for all she had mused about by the river yesterday came back to her mind in spate, vividly, instantaneously. Only yesterday she had heard Mr. Cochrane tell Duncan that his wife was better, and though that morning she had been ill almost beyond hope of recovery, yet all that day, and all to-day, she had been mending swiftly and steadily. Thurso was upstairs, too; the opportunity she had desired was completely given her. She had started to go to ring the bell, and order someone to go down to Dr. Symes's house and summon him, but half-way she stopped. It seemed almost as if Mr. Cochrane had expected this, for he had wheeled round in his chair, and when she stopped he was facing her, quiet, cheerful, looking at her with those strong, childlike eyes. "Mr. Cochrane," she began. Their eyes met, and again she felt antagonistic to him. He had the element of certainty about him, which, it seemed to her, no one had the right to carry. But then, his simplicity made it easier to be simple with him. She moved a step nearer him, a step further from the bell. "I don't know whether I am right to ask you this," she said; "but, to begin with, if what the nurse thinks has happened, it is quite useless, as she said, to send for the doctor. I don't ask it either in a spirit of derision or curiosity." "Ask, then," said he quietly. "Yes; a life is at stake. Can you go to poor Sandie, and make him live? And, if so, will you? I have known him all my life. He has landed a hundred fish for me. But if you say "No," I shall quite understand that you feel--honestly, I am quite sure--that it is not right for you to do so. I shall be sorry, but I shall in no way question your decision. So I ask you: Will you go to Sandie?" Maud did not know that the human face could hold such happiness as she saw there. He answered at once.