Hubert drew his chair a little nearer--for he had been bidden to sit. "If you will pardon me, sir, for saying it, I do not think you ought to take what Dr. Spreckley says for granted. You should have better advice." "The London doctors have been down once--and they did me no good. They'd not do it now. And there'd be the trouble and expense incurred for nothing." "I was not thinking of London doctors, sir, but of one nearer home--Dr. Jago." "Pooh! They say he is a quack." Hubert Stone bent his head, and talked low and earnestly--describing what he had heard of Dr. Jago's wonderful skill. "I--I know a little of medicine myself, sir," he added; "sometimes I wish I had been brought up to it, for I believe I have a natural aptitude for the science, and I read medical books, and have been in hospitals; and--and I think, Squire, that a clever practitioner who knows his business could at least keep you alive until next April. Ay, and past it. I almost think _I_ could." Mr. Denison smiled. The idea of Hubert dabbling in such things tickled him. "Well, and how would you set about it?" he demanded in pleasant mockery. Hubert said a few words in a low tone; his voice seemed to grow lower as he continued. He looked strangely in earnest; his face was dark and eager. "The lad must be mad--to think he could keep me alive by those means!" interrupted the Squire, staring at Hubert from under his shaggy brows, as though he half thought he saw a lunatic before him. "If you would only let me finish, sir--only listen while I describe the treatment----" "Pray, did you ever witness the treatment you would describe--and see a life prolonged by it?" Without directly answering the question, Hubert resumed the argument in his low and eager tones. Gradually the Squire grew interested--perhaps almost unto belief. "And you could--could doctor me up in this manner, you think!" he exclaimed, lifting his hand and letting it drop again. "Boy, you almost take my breath away." "Perhaps I could not, sir. But I say Dr. Jago might." Squire Denison sat thinking, his head bent down. "Do you know this Dr. Jago?" he presently asked. "Have you met him?" "Once or twice, sir. And I was struck with an impression of his inward power." "Well, I--I will see him," decided the Squire. "And if he thinks he can--can keep life in me, I will make it worth his while. Why, lad, I'd give half my fortune, nearly, to be able to will away Heron Dyke out of the clutches of those harpies, who look to inherit it, and who have kept their spies about us here. You may bring this new doctor to me." A glad light came into Hubert's face: he was at least as anxious as his master that Heron Dyke should not pass to strangers. "Shall I bring him tomorrow, sir?" "Ay, tomorrow. Why not? Spreckley will be here at ten; let the other come at noon. But look you here, lad: not a word to him beforehand about this idea of yours, this new--new treatment. I'll see him first."