But far from this condition of faith in himself was the eminent surgeon in whom he was reposing his confidence.  He had, alas! tarried too long at the feast of wine and fat things dispensed by Mr. Birtwell, and in his effort to restore the relaxed tension of his nerves by stimulation had sent too sudden an impulse to his brain, and roused it to morbid action.  His coffee failed to soothe the unquiet nerves, his stomach turned from the food on which he had depended for a restoration of the equipoise which the night’s excesses had destroyed.  The dangerous condition of Mrs. Ridley and his forced visit to that lady in the early morning, when he should have been free from all unusual effort and excitement, but added to his disturbance.

Doctor Hillhouse knew all about the previous habits of Mr. Ridley, and was much interested in his case.  He had seen with hope and pleasure the steadiness with which he was leading his new life, and was beginning to have strong faith in his future.  But when he met him on that morning, he knew by unerring signs that the evening at Mr. Birtwell’s had been to him one of debauch instead of restrained conviviality.  The extremity of his wife’s condition, and his almost insane appeals that he would hold her back from death, shocked still further the doctor’s already quivering nerves.

The imminent peril in which Doctor Hillhouse found Mrs. Ridley determined him to call in another physician for consultation.  As twelve o’clock on that day had been fixed for the operation on Mrs. Carlton, it was absolutely necessary to get his mind as free as possible from all causes of anxiety or excitement, and the best thing in this extremity was to get his patient into the hands of a brother in the profession who could relieve him temporarily from all responsibility, and watch the case with all needed care in its swiftly approaching crisis.  So he sent Doctor Angier, immediately on his return from his visit to Mrs. Ridley, with a request to Doctor Ainsworth, a physician of standing and experience, to meet him in consultation at ten o’clock.

Precisely at ten the physicians arrived at the house of Mr. Ridley, and were admitted by that gentleman, whose pale, haggard, frightened face told of his anguish and alarm.  They asked him no questions, and he preceded them in silence to the chamber of his sick wife.  It needed no second glance at their patient to tell the two doctors that she was in great extremity.  Her pinched face was ashen in color and damp with a cold sweat, and her eyes, no longer wild and restless, looked piteous and anxious, as of one in dreadful suffering who pleaded mutely for help.  An examination of her pulse showed the beat to be frequent and feeble, and on the slightest movement she gave signs of pain.  Her respiration was short and very rapid.  Mr. Ridley was present, and standing in a position that enabled him to observe the faces of the two doctors as they proceeded with their examination.  Hope died as he saw the significant changes that passed over them.  When they left the sick-chamber, he left also, and walked the floor anxiously while they sat in consultation, talking together in low tones.  Now and then he caught words, such as “peritoneum,” “lesion,” “perforation,” etc., the fatal meaning of which he more than half guessed.