"She is my friend," he answered softly. "Of that there is no doubt at all. Why do you ask?"
"Because," I answered, "for your friend, she has a strange guest."
"Mademoiselle, and her maid--and poodle," I answered. "They are all here!"
I felt him shiver, for he was leaning heavily upon me. Nevertheless, he answered me with confidence.
"It is the gathering of the jackals," he muttered--"the jackals who are going to be disappointed. But you may be sure of one thing, my friend. The young lady is here as an ordinary guest! That was a matter very easy to arrange. There is a great social backing behind her. She can come and go where she pleases. But Lady Dennisford's knowledge of her is wholly innocent."
We drove back almost in silence. Rust was waiting for us when we arrived, and he eyed his patient curiously, and hurried him off to the house. They were alone together for some time, and when he came out his face was very grave. He came out into the garden in search of me!
"Courage," he said, "I wish to heavens I had never seen your guest!"
"What do you mean?" I asked. "Have you been quarrelling?"
"Quarrelling, no! One doesn't quarrel with a dying man," he answered.
"He was on the verge of a collapse just now," he said. "I honestly fear that he will not live many more hours. Yet, though I could fill in his death certificate plausibly enough, if you were to ask me honestly to-day what was the matter with him, I could not tell you. Do you mind if I wire for a friend of mine to come down and see him?"
"By all means," I answered; "you mean a specialist, I suppose?"
"No! a toxicologist!" Rust remarked dryly.
I glanced into his face. He was in deadly earnest.
"What the devil is one to believe?" the doctor exclaimed irritably. "The man is sound, but he is dying. If I told you that I understood his symptoms, I should be a liar. I can think only of one thing. You yourself gave me the idea."
"I shall go to the village," Rust said, "and return immediately. Don't let him be left alone. He has a draught to take in case of necessity."
I turned back to the house with a sigh. I am afraid that I had as little faith in medicine as Guest himself.
Guest for the remainder of the morning seemed to have fallen into a sort of stupor. He declined to sit in the garden or come down to lunch. When I went up to his room, he was lying upon a couch, half undressed, and with a dressing-gown wrapped around him. He opened his eyes when I came in, but waved me away.