hes harmless to
his child and to others, wishes hurtful to his child and to others; but
I _do_ know that they must be fulfilled at once or never, and that you
are the only man that can help him."

That open declaration brought the discussion to a close. It fixed Mr.
Neal fast between the two alternatives of saying Yes, and committing an
act of imprudence, or of saying No, and committing an act of inhumanity.
There was a silence of some minutes. The Scotchman steadily reflected;
and the German steadily watched him.

The responsibility of saying the next words rested on Mr. Neal, and in
course of time Mr. Neal took it. He rose from his chair with a sullen
sense of injury lowering on his heavy eyebrows, and working sourly in
the lines at the corners of his mouth.

"My position is forced on me," he said. "I have no choice but to accept
it."

The doctor's impulsive nature rose in revolt against the merciless
brevity and gracelessness of that reply. "I wish to God," he broke out
fervently, "I knew English enough to take your place at Mr. Armadale's
bedside!"

"Bating your taking the name of the Almighty in vain," answered the
Scotchman, "I entirely agree with you. I wish you did."

Without another word on either side, they left the room together--the
doctor leading the way.

III. THE WRECK OF THE TIMBER SHIP.

NO one answered the doctor's knock when he and his companion reached the
antechamber door of Mr. Armadale's apartments. They entered unannounced;
and when they looked into the sitting-room, the sitting-room was empty.

"I must see Mrs. Armadale," said Mr. Neal. "I decline acting in the
matter unless Mrs. Armadale authorizes my interference with her own
lips."

"Mrs. Armadale is probably with her husband," replied the doctor.
He approached a door at the inner end of the sitting-room while he
spoke--hesitated--and, turning round again, looked at his sour companion
anxiously. "I am afraid I spoke a little harshly, sir, when we were
leaving your room," he said. "I beg your pardon for it, with all my
heart. Before this poor afflicted lady comes in, will you--will you
excuse my asking your utmost gentleness and consideration for her?"

"No, sir," retorted the other harshly; "I won't excuse you. What right
have I given you to think me wanting in gentleness and consideration
toward anybody?"

The doctor saw it was useless. "I beg your pardon again," he said,
resignedly, and left the unapproachable stranger