“You have done well for them; you saved Julia’s life, Dr. Lynch. She is lost to me, but I am unselfish enough to be grateful for this, though you may have done it for your own purposes.” “It was not for me to save her; God only could do that.” “None of that, if you please. When the devil quotes Scripture, I am not one of his congregation. No cant.” “I only intended to say that I did what any physician should have done. No human hand could have saved her; though I think her life was preserved by careful nursing, and, if you please, skilful medical attendance.” “I believe it; and I am willing to grant that she owes her life to you.” “But you say I labored for my own purposes.” “In a word, you intend to marry her.” “I have never spoken to her on that subject. I will not deny that I cherish a very warm regard for her; and herein I have crossed your path, and excited your wrath against me.” “I have nothing to say upon that point. The lady shall speak for herself. On account of what you have done for her, I am disposed to let you down as easily as possible, consistently with truth and justice.” “Let me down?” said the doctor, curiously. “If you will confess your agency in the events which have transpired in connection with the murder of Buckstone, I will do all that I can to save you from disagreeable consequences, and even to protect your good name,” said Dick, in a serious tone. “Confess?” “Why do you repeat my words after me? You know what I mean?” “I have nothing to confess,” replied Dr. Lynch; but awful forebodings were apparently creeping through his mind. “If you have not, let us waste no more time.” Dick rose from his chair, as if to terminate the interview. “What could I have to confess?” “First, that you sent for Buckstone, and that you went over to the island with him.” “But I did not.” “We waste time; I have business with Mr. Darling to-night. You must excuse me if I decline to say anything more about it.” “Don’t be harsh, Mr. Birch.” “I am not harsh. Confess, and I will spare you as much as I can.” “I have nothing to confess. You are laboring under some mistake, Mr. Birch.” “Perhaps I am,” sneered Dick. “To-morrow will show whether I am or not.” “To-morrow?” “Don’t repeat my words, doctor.” “You threaten me.” “Did I seek this interview, or did you?” “I did, of course, and I am grateful to you for your kindness in granting it.” “What do you want of me?” demanded Dick, impatiently. “I wished merely to explain the matter about the name.” “Well, you have done so.” “But that opened other matters.” “I do not wish to say another word. I prefer to let the trial take its course. For your sake, I proposed that you should make a clean breast of it.” “Why for my sake?” “Because we may be able to temper the facts so that they will not bear so hard upon you.” “What facts?” “All the facts.” “Mr. Birch, you assume that I have not told the truth.” “I distinctly say that you have not.”