"Bout gone, sir. Glad you've come," said one of the men; and Oldroyd raised the latch and went into the low-ceiled kitchen, where a tallow candle was burning in a lantern, but there was no one there. "Here's the doctor, miss," said the man who had before spoken, crossing to a doorway opening at once upon a staircase, when a frightened-looking girl, with red eyes and a scared look upon her countenance, came hurrying downstairs. "Would you please to come up, sir," she said. "Oh. I am so glad you've come." Oldroyd followed her up the creaking staircase, and had to stoop to enter the sloping-ceiled room, where, with another pale, scared woman kneeling beside the bed, and a long, snuffed candle upon an old chest of drawers, giving a doleful, ghastly light, lay a big, black-whiskered, shaggy-haired man, his face pinched and white, and plenty of tokens about of the terrible wound he had received. Oldroyd went at once to the bed, made a hurried examination, took out his case, and for the next half hour he was busy trying to staunch the bleeding, and place some effectual bandages upon the wound. All this time the man never opened his eyes, but lay with his teeth clenched, and lips nipped so closely together, that they seemed to form a thin line across the lower part of his face. Oldroyd knew that he must be giving the man terrible pain, but he did not shrink, bearing it all stoically, if he was conscious, though there were times when his attendant thought he must be perfectly insensible to what was going on. The women obeyed the slightest hint, and worked hard; but all the while Oldroyd felt that he had been called upon too late, and that the man must sink from utter exhaustion. To his surprise, however, just as he finished his task, and was bending over his patient counting the pulsation in the wrist, the man unclosed his eyes, and looked up at him. "Well, doctor," he said, coolly; "what's it to be--go or stay?" "Life, I hope," replied Oldroyd, as he read the energy and determination of the man's nature. This was not one who would give up without a struggle, for his bearing during the past half hour had been heroic. "Glad of it," sighed the wounded man. "I haven't done yet; and to-night's work has given me a fresh job on hand." "Now, keep perfectly still and do not speak," said Oldroyd, sternly. "Everything depends upon your being at rest. Sleep if you can. I will stop till morning to see that the bleeding does not break out again." "Thankye, doctor," said the man gruffly; and just then a pair of warm lips were pressed upon Oldroyd's hand, and he turned sharply. "Hallo!" he said. "I've been so busy that I did not notice you. I've seen your face before." "Yes, sir; I met you once near The Warren--Mrs Rolph's." "Thought I'd seen you. But you--are you his wife?" "No," said the girl, smiling faintly. "This is my father."