My business, Mr. Melrose, as a doctor, is not to kill people, but,
if I can, to cure them."
"Don't talk such nonsense to me, sir! Every one knows that any serious
case can be safely removed in a proper ambulance. The whole thing is
monstrous! By G--d, sir, what law obliges me to give up my house to a man
I know nothing about, and a whole tribe of hangers-on, besides?"
And, fairly beside himself, Melrose struck a carved chest, standing
within reach, a blow which made the china and glass objects huddled upon
it ring again.
"Well," said Undershaw slowly, "there is such a thing as--a law of
humanity. But I imagine if you turn out that man against my advice, and
he dies on the road to hospital, that some other kind of law might have
something to say to it."
"You refuse!"
The shout made the little doctor, always mindful of his patient, look
behind him, to see that the door was closed.
"He cannot be moved for three or four days," was the firm reply. "The
chances are that he would collapse on the road. But as soon as ever the
thing is possible you shall be relieved of him. I can easily find
accommodation for him at Pengarth. At present he is suffering from very
severe concussion. I hope there is not actual brain lesion--but there may
be. And, if so, to move him now would be simply to destroy his chance of
recovery."
The two men confronted each other, the unreasonable fury of the one met
by the scientific conscience of the other.
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