it up, and as its light
filled the surgery, he walked boldly to the lobby-door, opened it, and
the dull red glare from the fanlight over the outer door shone upon his
handsome placid face.

The next moment he had opened the outer door, and was gazing at a group
of three men.

Mark Heath's announcement flashed through his brain once more, and then
gave place to the ideas furnished by his visitors.

"Thought you were a-bed. Couldn't find the bell. This cursed fog, sir.
Our friend here knocked down by a cab, and we saw your red light as we
were trying to get him to our hotel."

"Tut, tut, tut!" ejaculated the doctor. "Bring him in, gentlemen."

He glanced at his visitors. Saw that they were well-dressed men in
ulsters and low-crowned hats, and that the speaker was a well-built
fellow with a closely-cut beard; while another was a rather
Mephistophelean-looking man, with cheeks closely shaven, and upper lip
bearing a bristly moustache.

Between them they supported a slight, young-looking companion, who was
moaning slightly, but evidently making an effort to be firm.

"Mind, Harry--Rogers," he said, in a high-pitched voice, "it's as if
something red-hot was running through my chest! Ah-h-h!"

"Support him, gentlemen," said the doctor. "Mind he doesn't faint.
Here, quick! Here!"

He spoke in sharp, decided tones, as he directed and helped them to lay
the injured man upon the settee, where he subsided with a querulous cry,
grinding his teeth the while, and compressing his lips.

"Kindly shut both doors," said the doctor; and the man who had first
spoken, and who looked very pale, obeyed.

"So cursedly unlucky!" he said excitedly. "I never saw such a fog.
They've no business to allow men to drive fast on a night like this."

"Don't talk, old chap. Not serious, I hope, doctor?" said the
Mephistophelean man. "Cab seemed to come out of the fog, and he was
knocked down. I got an ugly blow on the shoulder."

"Get me some brandy," said the injured man faintly. "My chest's
crushed."

"No, no, not so bad as that," said the doctor kindly. "You shall have a
stimulus soon. Now, then, suppose we see what the damage is. A broken
rib, I expect, and that will only mean a little pain. Now, then."

His busy fingers were rapidly and tenderly unbuttoning the injured man's
coat, while a gasping moan came from his lips.

"Hurts me horribly--to breathe, doctor."

There was a gasping sound, and the Mephistophelean