The doctor rose uncertainly and paced up and down the floor with his face in his hands, swaying like a drunken man.

“O God!” he moaned, “if I could but bring back his life with mine; but I can’t!  I can’t!  I can’t!”

Pearl watched him, but said not a word.  At last she said: 

“Doc, I think Arthur has appendicitis.  Come and have a look at him, and see if he hasn’t.”

With a supreme effort the doctor gained control of himself and made a hasty but thorough examination.

“He has,” he said, “a well developed case of it.”

Pearl handed him his satchel.  “Here, then,” she said, “go at him.”

“I can’t do it, Pearl,” he cried.  “I can’t.  He’ll die, I tell you, like that other poor fellow.  I can’t send another man to meet his Maker.”

“Oh, he’s ready!” Pearl interrupted him.  “Don’t hold back on Arthur’s account.”

“I can’t do it,” he repeated hopelessly.  “He’ll die under my knife, I can’t kill two men in one night.  O God, be merciful to a poor, blundering, miserable wretch!” he groaned, burying his face in his hands, and Pearl noticed that the back of his coat quivered like human flesh.

Arthur’s breath was becoming more and more laboured; his eyes roved sightlessly around the room; his head rolled on the pillow in a vain search for rest; his fingers clutched convulsively at the bed-clothes.

Pearl was filled with dismay.  The foundations of her little world were tottering.

All but One.  There was One who had never failed her.  He would not fail her now.

She dropped on her knees.

“O God, dear God,” she prayed, beating her hard little brown hands together, “don’t go back on us, dear God.  Put the gimp into Doc again; he’s not scared to do it, Lord, he’s just lost his grip for a minute; he’s not scared Lord; it looks like it, but he isn’t.  You can bank on Doc, Lord, he’s not scared.  Bear with him, dear Lord, just a minute—­just a minute—­he’ll do it, and he’ll do it right, Amen.”

When Pearl rose from her knees the doctor had lifted his head.

“Do you want hot water and sheets and carbolic?” she asked.

He nodded.

When she came back with them the doctor was taking off his coat.  His instruments were laid out on the box.

“Get a lamp,” he said to Pearl.

Pearl’s happy heart was singing with joy.  “O Lord, dear Lord, You never fail,” she murmured as she ran across to the kitchen.

When she came back with the lamp and a chair to set it on, the doctor was pinning a sheet above the bed.  His face was white and drawn, but his hand was firm and his mouth was a straight line.

Arthur was tossing his arms convulsively.

The doctor listened with his ear a minute upon the sick man’s heart, then the gauze mask was laid upon his face and the chloroform soon did its merciful work.

The doctor handed Pearl the bottle.  “A drop or two if he moves,” he said.