"Why, Doctor Praed?" said Dinah faintly, as she recalled her last parting from Clive, and thought how little the visitor knew. "Because I should like to let my tongue run loose and say all manner of evil things concerning that wretched mine. But I suppose I must not." Dinah rose and laid her hand upon his arm. "You do not talk to me about Clive," she whispered. "You cannot think of the agony I suffer." "I do not speak because to one like you it would be cruel to talk in the slow, hopeful twaddle used by some of my weak brethren. My dear child, there is nothing to say. His life is not in my hands. We can only wait." "But, Doctor, think, for pity's sake, think--is there nothing that can be done? It is maddening to stand here helpless and see him gliding slowly away from us. For he is weaker. I did hope that the quiet which has come over him was a change for the better. I know now that it is all increasing weakness." "May I come in?" said the Major at the door. The Doctor hurriedly moved to him, glad of an excuse to escape from those pleading eyes, and followed the Major into the adjoining room. CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. THE TURNING-POINT. "There is a messenger from the mine," the Major whispered. "Don't talk of it," said the Doctor angrily. "Who is down there now?" "Mr Jessop Reed and that Mr Wrigley. They are trying everything to discover a continuation of the lost lode." "Bah! let them. Well, what do they want? Do they expect me to operate on the vein and make it bleed again?" "No, no. There is a man there, one Sturgess, the foreman, grievously ill, and this Mr Wrigley, knowing that you are here, has sent their clerk Robson over with a message begging you to see him." "I? No: impossible. Let him see the local man. I am engaged solely to watch my old friend's son." This was said so decisively that the Major walked away, but stopped by the door and returned. "I don't like this man, Doctor," he said; "he once insulted my child." "What? insulted Dinah--the girl my poor boy worshipped!" cried the Doctor angrily; "then let him die." He added something respecting Michael Sturgess's future, as he angrily turned away. "Think again, Doctor," said the Major. "They say the man is in a dangerous state. He has been bad for some time. It was from a fall, I believe, down one of the shafts." "That mine again. Why, Major Gurdon, it has been a curse to every one who has had dealings with it. Well, it's of no use to profess to be a Christian if one does not act up to it. I'll just go in and see how Clive seems, and whether he can be left." "And then you will go?" "Oh yes, I suppose I must. That's the worst of being a Christian. One cannot hate or curse a man conscientiously. Yes; I'll go and see the fellow, and I hope I shall not be tempted to give him too strong a dose." He went into the next room, bent over Clive for a few minutes, and rose as if satisfied. "You will not leave him," he said.