They were still in consultation when a sudden cry broke from the lips of Mrs. Ridley; and rising hastily, they went back to her chamber.  Her face was distorted and her body writhing with pain.

Doctor Hillhouse wrote a prescription hastily, saying to Mr. Ridley as he gave it to him:  “Opium, and get it as quickly as you can.”

The sick woman had scarcely a moment’s freedom from pain of a most excruciating character during the ten minutes that elapsed before her husband’s return.  The quantity of opium administered was large, and its effects soon apparent in a gradual breaking down of the pains, which had been almost spasmodic in their character.

When Doctor Hillhouse went away, leaving Doctor Ainsworth in charge of his patient, she was sinking:  into a quiet sleep.  On arriving at his office he found Mr. Wilmer Voss impatiently awaiting his return.

“Doctor,” said this gentleman, starting up on seeing him and showing considerable agitation, “you must come to my wife immediately.”

Doctor Hillhouse felt stunned for an instant.  He drew his hand tightly against his forehead, that was heavy with its dull, half-stupefying pain which, spite of what he could do, still held on.  All his nerves were unstrung.

“How is she?” he asked, with the manner of one who had received an unwelcome message.  His hand was still held against his forehead.

“She broke all down a little while ago, and now lies moaning and shivering.  Oh, doctor, come right away!  You know how weak she is.  This dreadful suspense will kill her, I’m afraid.”

Have you no word of Archie yet?” asked Doctor Hillhouse as he dropped the hand he had been holding against his forehead and temples.

“None!  So far, we are without a sign.”

“What are you doing?”

“Everything that can be thought of.  More than twenty of our friends, in concert with the police, are at work in all conceivable ways to get trace of him, but from the moment he left Mr. Birtwell’s he dropped out of sight as completely as if the sea had gone over him.  Up to this time not the smallest clue to this dreadful mystery has been found.  But come, doctor.  Every moment is precious.”

Doctor Hillhouse drew out his watch.  It was now nearly half-past ten o’clock.  His manner was nervous, verging on to excitement.  In almost any other case he would have said that it was not possible for him to go.  But the exigency and the peculiarly distressing circumstances attending upon this made it next to impossible for him to refuse.

“At twelve o’clock, Mr. Voss, I have a delicate and difficult operation to perform, and I have too short a time now for the preparation I need.  I am sure you can rely fully on my assistant, Doctor Angler.”

“No, no!” replied Mr. Voss, waving his hand almost impatiently.  “I do not want Doctor Angier.  You must see Mrs. Voss yourself.”

He was imperative, almost angry.  What was the delicate and difficult operation to him?  What was anything or anybody that stood in the way of succor for his imperiled wife?  He could not pause to think of others’ needs or danger.