the leader of the little plot
to detain him.

"You could not get out that way, doctor," he said quietly. "We are a
very united family here, and the housekeeper is devoted to us."

Chester frowned with annoyance.

"I understand you," he said; "but mind this: every dog has his day, sir,
and mine will come, unless revolvers are brought into play and an
awkward witness silenced."

"My dear doctor, you are romantic," was the sarcastic reply. "Don't be
alarmed; we shall not shoot and bury you on the premises, for sanitary
reasons. It might affect the nerves of our ladies, too. There, all we
want of you is your skill to set that poor fellow right, and then you
can return home, better paid than seeing ordinary patients. How does he
seem?"

An angry retort was at Chester's lips, but he did not utter it. He
accepted his position, for the time being, and replied quietly--

"Going on well, but he will be the better for a sedative. Feverish, of
course. Have you sent that prescription?"

"Yes, it has been taken, and the chemist will be rung up to dispense it.
I say, doctor; no fear of a bad ending?"

"And no thanks to the man who fired at him from behind," said Chester,
looking straight at his questioner as he spoke. "Fortunately the bullet
passed diagonally by his ribs, an inch to the right--"

"Yes, yes, the old story, doctor; but I did not fire the shot."

"Pray don't excuse yourself, sir," said Chester, coldly. "I am not a
magistrate; only a medical man with the customary knowledge of surgery."

"And a little more, too," was the reply, with a smile. "There, doctor,
we will not quarrel this morning, and you will not introduce the matter
to the police. It will pay you better to be silent; but if you
preferred to talk about it I'm afraid you would not be believed."

The speaker smiled cynically as he saw the effect of his words, and
walked away, leaving Chester thinking deeply, and, in spite of his anger
and annoyance, beginning more and more to feel that he had better accept
his position.

"It is a strange experience," he said to himself, as he sank back in an
easy-chair by the couch; "but a fee of two hundred guineas! Bel shall
have it in the shape of a present. She will not fidget when she has had
my wire."

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE STRANGE ATTRACTION PROVES TOO STRONG.

"There, I promise I will be quiet and say nothing, if you let me stay.
If you do not, I'll give the alarm in spite of you all."