It was late in the evening when he reached Ridgely; but he hastened at once to Dr. Balsam’s office.  The moon was shining, and it brought back to him the evenings on the verandah at Gates’s so long ago.  But it seemed to him that it was Lois Huntington who had been there among the pillows; that it was Lois Huntington who had always been there in his memory.  He wondered if she would be as she was then, as she lay dead.  And once or twice he wondered if he could be losing his wits; then he gripped himself and cleared his mind.

In ten minutes he was in Dr. Balsam’s office.  The Doctor greeted him with more coldness than he had ever shown him.  Keith felt his suspicion.

“Where is Lois—­Miss Lois Huntington?  Is she—?” He could not frame the question.

“She is doing very well.”

Keith’s heart gave a bound of hope.  The blood surged back and forth in his veins.  Life seemed to revive for him.

“Is she alive?  Will she live?” he faltered.

“Yes.  Who says she will not?” demanded the Doctor, testily.

“The paper—­the despatch.”

“No thanks to you that she does!” He faced Keith, and suddenly flamed out:  “I want to tell you that I think you have acted like a damned rascal!”

Keith’s jaw dropped, and he actually staggered with amazement.  “What!  What do you mean?  I do not understand!”

“You are not a bit better than that dog that you turned her over to, who got his deserts yesterday.”

“But I do not understand!” gasped Keith, white and hot.

“Then I will tell you.  You led that innocent girl to believe that you were in love with her, and then when she was fool enough to believe you and let herself become—­interested, you left her to run, like a little puppy, after a rich woman.”

“Where did you hear this?” asked Keith, still amazed, but recovering himself.  “What have you heard?  Who told you?”

“Not from her.”  He was blazing with wrath.

“No; but from whom?”

“Never mind.  From some one who knew the facts.  It is the truth.”

“But it is not the truth.  I have been in love with Lois Huntington since I first met her.”

“Then why in the name of heaven did you treat her so?”

“How?  I did not tell her so because I heard she was in love with some one else—­and engaged to him.  God knows I have suffered enough over it.  I would die for her.”  His expression left no room for doubt as to his sincerity.

The old man’s face gradually relaxed, and presently something that was almost a smile came into his eyes.  He held out his hand.

“I owe you an apology.  You are a d——­d fool!”

“Can I see her?” asked Keith.

“I don’t know that you can see anything.  But I could, if I were in your place.  She is on the side verandah at my hospital—­where Gates’s tavern stood.  She is not much hurt, though it was a close thing.  The ball struck a button and glanced around.  She is sitting up.  I shall bring her home as soon as she can be moved.”