Jeanne, as
usual looking out from their window, saw these.
"It is the old man, Madame," she commented. "And yes, _Monsieur le
Docteur_ at last--thank the _Bon Dieu_! But one other--who is
that?"
[Illustration: "It is the old man, Madame," commented Jeanne.]
It was a very worn and weary doctor who presently swung out of his
saddle at the gallery step. His clothing was stained with mud, his
very shoulders drooping with fatigue. In the past few days he
scarcely had slept, but had been here and there attending to the
wants of surviving sufferers of the boat encounter. None the less
he smiled as he held out his hand to Josephine.
"How is my patient?" he inquired. "Plumb well, of course. And how
about this new one--I thought I fixed him up before he came home.
I've been grunting at Eleazar all the way, telling him it's all
foolishness, my coming away out here--he could have fixed Dunwody's
leg up, somehow. I suppose you know the old man's son, Hector. He
came along for good measure, I reckon.
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