“He _can_! he _shall!_!” Johnnie exclaimed, as the house seemed filled with Dora’s delirious ravings. “Father and that Mr. West can bring him in a chair! He shall!” and Johnnie rushed across the street, nearly upsetting Mrs. West in his headlong haste, and bursting upon Richard with the exclamation, “She’ll die! she is dying, and you shall go! You must,—you will! We’ll take you in this big chair!” and Johnnie wound his arm around the doctor’s neck, while he begged of him to go and save Aunt Dora. At first the doctor hesitated, but when his brother also joined in the boy’s request, he said, “I’ll go.” CHAPTER XXIV. THE SHADOWS OF DEATH. It was a novel sight to see the little procession which half an hour later left Mrs. Markham’s house and moved across the street. Wrapped in a blanket and reclining in the huge arm-chair which Squire John, his coachman, and Robert West were carrying was Dr. West, while behind him walked his mother, with Johnnie and Jim and Burt and Ben bringing up the rear. “I think I had better go in alone. Too many may disturb her,” Richard suggested, as, supported by his brother and the Squire, he reached the upper hall and turned towards Dora’s chamber. All saw the propriety of this, and so only Jessie was present when Richard first sat down by Dora’s side, and taking her hot hand pressed it between his own, calling her by name and asking if she knew him. “Yes, Richard, and you have come to save me; I am so glad, and the night was so long, with the light on the wall,” Dora replied, and over her cheeks the tears fell refreshingly. “You have done her good already,” Jessie whispered to the doctor, who, repressing his intense desire to hug the sick girl to his bosom, proceeded carefully to examine every symptom and then to prescribe. She was very sick, he said, and the utmost quiet was necessary; only a few must be allowed to see her, and no one should be admitted whose presence disturbed her in the least. This was virtually keeping Squire Russell away, for his presence did disturb her, as had been apparent all the day, for she grew restless and talkative and feverish the moment he appeared. It smote the doctor cruelly to see how meekly he received the order. “Save her, doctor,” he said, “save my Dora and I will not mind giving you all I’m worth.”