Eleazar proved a faithful messenger once more. Before the evening shadows had greatly lengthened, three figures appeared at the lower end of the approach to Tallwoods mansion house. Jeanne, as usual looking out from their window, saw these. "It is the old man, Madame," she commented. "And yes, _Monsieur le Docteur_ at last--thank the _Bon Dieu_! But one other--who is that?" [Illustration: "It is the old man, Madame," commented Jeanne.] It was a very worn and weary doctor who presently swung out of his saddle at the gallery step. His clothing was stained with mud, his very shoulders drooping with fatigue. In the past few days he scarcely had slept, but had been here and there attending to the wants of surviving sufferers of the boat encounter. None the less he smiled as he held out his hand to Josephine. "How is my patient?" he inquired. "Plumb well, of course. And how about this new one--I thought I fixed him up before he came home. I've been grunting at Eleazar all the way, telling him it's all foolishness, my coming away out here--he could have fixed Dunwody's leg up, somehow. I suppose you know the old man's son, Hector. He came along for good measure, I reckon." The young man referred to now advanced, made a leg and pulled a black forelock. He was a strapping youth, attired in the latest fashion of French St. Genevieve. He bowed to this lady; but at the same time, the glance he cast at her French waiting-maid was evidence enough of the actuating cause of his journey. He had heard somewhat of these strangers at Tallwoods house. "I'll been forget to tell the _docteur_ h'all about Mr. Dunwodee," began Eleazar. "What business have you to forget!" demanded Jamieson sternly. "Has anything gone wrong?" "_Mon pere_," began Hector, "I'll tol' him, if he didn't tell the _docteur_ about how Monsieur Dunwodee he'll broke it his leg some more--" "What's that?" The doctor whirled upon him. "It's quite true," said Josephine. "He had a fall, here in the house. He thinks he has broken the injured bone. I didn't know for a long time that he had been shot. He stood out here last night talking to me." "_Stood_ out here--_talking_ to you--with his leg broken through--the front bone? Couldn't you have any mercy? You didn't have to _use_ that broken wrist, but he--standing around--" "He did not tell me, until the last moment. He said he thought he had a little fever and believed he would take a little quinine." "Oh, quinine--a Missourian would take that to save his immortal soul--and quite as well as to take it for a broken bone like that. I did the best I could with it--out there in the dark, but it wasn't half dressed. Come--" He motioned Josephine to follow him to Dunwody's room.